The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders
by Rabid Ghosts
Summary: (AH/AU) Being the new girl is hard. Getting on a rude guy's bad side is even worse. Falling for that guy is probably the worst. Chlerek.
1. Chapter 1

The Misadventure of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 1

New Girl Again

* * *

Chloe scrambled out of the car, hearing Milos call after her, "Have a good day, Miss Saunders!" She managed a half-assed smile before her sneaker caught on a crack in the concrete and down she went. Her phone slid across the pavement and her books scattered.

"Damn," she hissed as she scrabbled for her things. As she sat there, on her knees, inspecting her phone for cracks, she heard a voice say, "Who the hell put their—oh."

She turned and found a hulk of a boy standing behind her, his big, white sneakers stepping on the edge of her tote bag. His hair fell into his face, as though he were trying hide but his eyes cut through her, piercing, vibrant shards of green glass.

She opened her mouth, to apologize, but he cut her off. "Don't leave your mess in the middle of the goddamn sidewalk, moron," he spat and walked towards the school, uncaring that he kicked her bag and everything fell out again.

"H-hey!" she cried as the door swung behind him. Thunder clapped and she glanced up as the first drop hit her eyebrow. Hurriedly she tucked everything back into her bag, scooped up her phone as the downpour hit hard, soaking her to the bone within seconds.

Today was going to be horrible.

oOo

"Is this seat taken?"

Chloe looked up from her Algebra textbook to see a dark-haired boy with a smarmy smile. He was a football player, wearing the school's letterman jacket and jeans; his wavy, dark hair was slicked back like an eel.

He gave her a smile like the cat that devoured the canary as he sank into the seat. "What're you studying?" he breathed in her ear. Discreetly as she could, she scooted away, hands shaking.

"I'm Royce," the boy offered. Like it made any difference that he was ogling her unabashedly if she knew his name. "C-Chloe," she responded. _Did you really just stutter again? _

Royce gave her another smile, this one more of a leer than anything. Her skin prickled. "I-I should go," she stammered out; heart thumping when he stood abruptly and several heads whipped towards them.

She wanted to slip under the table and never come out but a quick glance at the clock told her she needed to get to music class. She gathered up her binder and textbooks and bid Royce a goodbye.

"I'll walk you," he offered. "N-no thanks." When she declined, his face went dark with anger and she scrambled back, fear taking over. She tripped and hit the ground, jarring her funny bone. Royce let out a loud laugh like she'd told him the funniest joke and fear shifted into high gear, turning into terror. His eyes pierced her, hot and violent, filled with hate and lust.

She got to her feet and took off out of the library, feet slapping the floor. _What was that guy's problem? He freaks me out. _She sprinted around the corner and had the prickling sensation that he was following her so she picked up pace and crashed headfirst into someone. The two of them fell to the floor and she lay there, trying not to cry, feeling very scared, very confused and in pain.

Her hip ached as she got to her knees and heard the guy she'd smacked into moan a growl. "I-I'm s-so sorry," she apologized, face warming as she took note of his muscular physique and nice butt. "I-I w-wasn't—"

"Will you shut up for two seconds?" snapped the deep rumble of a voice. Her face flashed hot as the guy sat up and turned, his eyes cutting through her. "What the fuck is your problem?" he growled, and his voice sent excited shivers up her spine.

He seemed to stare at her for a minute, eyes darting around, looking at her face. "What—"

A loud voice cut him off and Chloe's heart stuttered in beating. The boy from the library—Royce was it?—was walking _straight _towards her and panic filled up her chest, made it hard to breathe. Shakily, she tried to pack up her things and calm down but her eyes were filling with tears of terror and she couldn't stop them.

"Souza." The eel's voice was cold, angry. "Banks." The rude boy's tone was indifferent.

Chloe ducked her head down when Royce addressed her and instead stared at his expensive, chunky sneakers. "You left me so suddenly back there, Chloe," he laughed and she shook her head when he extended his hand down to her.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing with an ugly guy like him?"

She slapped his hand away. "I-I think y-you're the one w-who's ugly, R-Royce," she spat out, the tips of her ears burning when his smile turned sharp and violent as his stance grew rigid. "_Really?_" The tone of his voice sent her scuttling back but he grabbed her leg and leaned down, his face in hers. "Banks," came the other boy's growling voice.

She could feel the pulse beating wildly in wrists, in her ankles even, as Royce's tan, angry face swept close to hers. Her frightened, panic-stricken eyes met his as he whispered, so softly that she had to strain to hear it, "You're going to be mine, whether you want it—" He punctuated with a twist her foot, making her cry and try, weakly albeit, to kick him, "—_or not_."

"D-don't t-to-ouch me!" she whispered out, fear constricting her voice when he laughed mockingly at her and dropped her foot. "Watch out, she's a fighter. It's always fun to break the toughest ones."

Royce licked his lips and she dragged herself back, horrified. "Banks!" came the rude boy's sharp bark and his arm looped around Chloe, dragging her back.

She struggled to stand. "Look like the pup thinks he's found a girlfriend," laughed out a girl's voice. She found a copper-skinned girl with coppery braids slinking around the corner in high wedges. She jolted as dark eyes met her blue ones. "Rae?"

"Hello, Chloe," she sneered as Chloe dug her nails into her palms. "You know her?" the rude boy asked in her ear. Her head bobbed in a nod.

How could she ever forget the bitch who forced her to move schools and ruined her entire eighth grade year after her mom passed away?

"Oh yeah, we know each other," Rae snickered with a flirty smile.


	2. Chapter 2

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 2

Calling All the Creeps

After the rude boy diffused the situation and the antagonistic duo left, he turned to her and glowered darkly. Chloe tried to think of something to say, something snarky, something cutting but only stuttered out an apology and a squeaky "thank you" as she collected things.

"Hey, bro," called a voice. A blonde boy wearing a basketball uniform jogged around the corner, red faced and sweaty, and sneakers squawking on the linoleum floor. Chloe ducked her head down and stood quickly, holding her bag to her chest.

"I told you pushing down girls isn't nice," laughed the basketball boy, a grin lighting up his attractive face. She managed a shitty grin that looked more like a grimace and turned to leave. "Hey, I didn't hear an introduction." Groaning inwardly, Chloe turned and gave a weak smile. "I-I'm C-Chloe," she said and nearly smacked herself in the face when the rude boy's glare became even darker and his face grew stormy at the sound of her stutter.

"Simon."

The blonde's hand was soft, like a young girl's and sweaty. "Sorry 'bout the indecency," he apologized as he saw her wipe her hand on her jean-clad hip. "My boyfriend Nate and I were practicing for the big game Friday." Nate sounded familiar. "Does he have bright red hair?" she asked shyly, praying, hoping it was her Nate from Buffalo. "Yeah." A grin spread across her face.

"He was my best friend before I moved here," she said excitedly. "He's constantly jabbering about a girl named Chloe," Simon moaned, jabbing an elbow into the massive boy's side. "Oh, and Mr. Grumpy Cat over here—"

"Chloe!"

She squealed as the red head scooped her up into his sweaty chest and swung her around. Her hair flew everywhere. "Nate," she laughed as he set her down and inspected her. "What happened?" he demanded, suddenly serious. "H-huh?" Her heart thumped in her chest as her mind flashed back to the encounter with Royce.

"You grew boobs!" Nate laughed and her face went hot viciously. "Shut up!" she yelled and punched him in the arm when Simon laughed too. She knew they were just playing but she still felt humiliated; her cheeks burned like wild fire and she wanted to kick someone. She turned and kicked Nate hard in the leg. He stopped laughing and gaped at her. "Damn, girl, you kick hard."

"Like a soccer player," Simon crowed. Chloe smiled weakly as someone shouldered passed her, nearly knocking her over. She stumbled. "Hey!" she shouted after the massive, retreating figure. He turned halfway, giving her lovely view of his sharp, angled profile. Damn. A curtain of black hair fell across the eye she saw. "Thank you." He grunted something she didn't catch and said, "Don't be such a dumbass," before he continued on his way.

"Why'd you thank him?" Simon asked, rubbing his shoulder with hers. "Oh, he helped me find the library," she said. "See you at home, DerBear!" Nate called. She was pretty sure her savior flipped him off.

"That's Derek for you," Nate sniffled and slung his arm around her. "So, Chloe, catch me up on the last year," he said, picking up her bag, Simon on her other side, leading her to the gym.

oOo

It was as she was walking to her English class that she let her mind drift back to Derek. Strong, solidly built but rude as hell, he was so different from the boys back home, boys like Simon and Nate, who smiled and laughed and never made her feel so inferior.

But then again boys didn't look like Derek Souza. Boys at home were muscular, sure, but they weren't massive like he was, didn't part crowds or get stares, didn't walk noiselessly like a predator. Sighing to herself, Chloe continued her long trek to her English class, staring down at her schedule.

_Room 203. Miss Talbot. English 9. _

With a little bit of difficulty and some very nice, helpful custodians, Chloe managed to locate her next class ten minutes before the bell rang. Sighing to herself, she stepped into the room and every nerve ending shot to hell.

Every hair stood on end. The room was full of kids, walking, talking, sitting on desks but all eyes were on her. She gulped. "Move," growled a voice behind her. Recognition spiked through her and she whipped around, eyes widening when she saw him.

Derek fucking Souza stood there, one arm looped through a strap on his backpack. His black sweatshirt stretched taut across his broad, muscular chest and the sleeves bunched at his elbows.

Anger followed the recognition. What the hell was this guy's fucking problem? "You," he grunted and she blinked, face heating up as she realized she'd spoken out loud. She opened her mouth, to make a retort, something snarky but her words froze and her brain shut down when he oh so calmly shouldered passed her and walked into the room.

_Maybe he's having a bad day, _she thought as she slid into an empty seat. Sneakily, she peeked up at him, watching him look for a seat. _Five minutes, DerBear, _she snickered to herself, watching the way he moved, a wolf prowling in a room full of clunky, uncoordinated sheep. Someone sat down behind her and she turned when she felt the foot kick her seat.

A blonde boy with stubble and overlong hair grinned at her and immediately she didn't like him. Not one bit. "Preying on the innocent again, Liam?" a voice asked in a sneer and Chloe looked up, finding a pretty, slim girl with a black pixie-cut sneering down at Liam.

The blonde chuckled darkly. "No ma'am, Miss Enright," he said, licking his lips as his grey eyes sparkled with mischief. "Just checking out the new meat. A bit young for Ramon but not me." He grinned at Chloe and she wanted to crawl under the desk, hide away from his disgusting leer.

"News flash, getting a scumbag like you isn't on every girl's list." A laugh bubbled up from Chloe's stomach and she stifled it by biting her lip, watching the banter. Enright's eyes were alive with hate and it was pure, unadulterated; Liam was sneering up at her, his hand patting a lump in his pocket.

Chloe's eyes widened as he reached into the pocket and pulled out…a cellphone. One of those flip phones. "I gotta jet," he said as he turned away and scooped up a black messenger bag. When he turned back, a lit cigarette peeked out from between his lips. His eyes glittered as he glared down at Chloe.

"Royce says hi," he cackled and swept out of the room. "I'm Tori," said the punk girl as she flopped down onto Chloe's desk. "C-Chloe."

"You just keep attracting all the creeps, don't you?" muttered a voice behind her and Tori's thin eyebrows rose. "And that is my brother, Derek," she said and Chloe turned, staring up at Derek's eyes.

He didn't look the least bit happy as he sank down into the seat next to her and Tori scampered off to sit next to a blonde cheerleader with the underside of her hair dyed blue.

_Oh hell, _Chloe thought as she turned to Derek and said, "Thank you." He grunted. "Your welcome, Chloe," she muttered, attempting to mimic his deep, rumbling voice. His snort sounded suspiciously like a laugh and he turned to her, holding her phone, waving it at her.

"Nice background," he said, a slight, very light, very subtle teasing tone in his voice. She grabbed her phone out of his hands and glared, quickly scrolling through everything.

A new contact had been added.

He'd put his number in her phone. She stared at him long and hard and said, "Give me your phone then." With a huff of annoyance, he pulled out an iPhone 5s and unlocked it. She typed in her number, adding herself as a contact.

Discreetly, she fixed his name from _Derek _in her phone to _DerBear. _Biting her lip, she tucked her phone into the pocket of her jeans and turned, pretending to pay attention to the lesson and not the massive, attractive man next to her.

At least that's what she told herself.


	3. Chapter 3

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 3

Friendship Isn't Magic

The first week crawled by agonizingly, with drama and math and trying to make new friends and avoid that sleaze bag Royce. "You know," said Rae, who'd purposefully picked a seat next to Chloe, "You must be something special for Royce to go after you." The smile on her lips was sad, almost, but mean.

Chloe started when Rae began to speak but relaxed, half-listening to the dark-skinned girl's chatter as she filled out equations and problems. "You aren't the first, you know," Rae sneered, flicking something off her large breasts.

Her eyes flickered down to Chloe's lack of breasts and snickered. The blonde's face heated as she set down her pencil and stood up. She wanted to say something, anything, but instead chose to turn in her paper to Mrs. Wang, a pretty, Chinese woman with a huge, pregnant belly, who smiled at everyone and hardly gave the class any real work, which, by all means, was fine by the students.

"How far along are you?" Chloe asked curiously, glancing at the taut fabric of the woman's shirt. "About eight months," Mrs. Wang said proudly, rubbing her belly. "Would you like to feel them kick?" asked the woman, smiling up at Chloe. Mystified, Chloe nodded and crouched down, placing a trembling hand on the belly.

Several minutes ticked by. Just as she was feeling a bit silly, there was a sharp bump; a flutter of movement, against her hand and her wide eyes met her teacher's beaming ones, although the older woman's features were scrunched in discomfort. "Too bad every time one of them decides to kick, it's pressing down on my bladder," she laughed.

"How many?" Chloe got to her feet and wiped off her jeans.

"Twins. I don't know the genders yet," purred Mrs. Wang, thoughtfully stroking her bulging stomach with a tender look only mothers wore. "I bet Mr. Wang is ecstatic," Chloe said. Mrs. Wang snorted a laugh. "He's ridiculous! He's too much of a worrywart. He thinks I shouldn't teach because of how far along I am but, I, being the stubborn woman I am, won't leave work until my water breaks."

Chloe smiled. "Well, congratulations. I hope you have healthy twins." Mrs. Wang's face glowed with her smile. "Thank you. Not many of the students like to think of their teachers with their spouses," muttered the pregnant woman, shaking her head. "I know that the faculty has a life outside of the classroom," Chloe said, "but I've had wrapped my brain around the fact for several years b-but it seems these kids don't t-think teachers h-have an actual life."

Mrs. Wang patted the back of Chloe's hand as the bell shrilled, making both of them jump. "Skittish as a kitten," Mrs. Wang teased as Chloe bid her farewell and began to collect her things. "Well, well," sneered a voice as Chloe stepped into the hallway.

She turned to find Liam behind her, an evil, malicious smile on his thin, chapped lips. She swallowed hard. _Damn it, _she thought as she noticed the emptying hallway. "H-Hello, L-Liam," she managed to squeak out as she edged backwards, never giving him her back.

The boy's smile never wavered; in fact, it grew in size, reminding her darkly of the Cheshire Cat's grin. "_Hello_, Chloe," he replied as he stepped closer with every step she took back. Her heart thumped in her chest as fear set in. The hallway was empty and she had no help.

"Hey!" barked out a man's voice. She closed her eyes in relief. "Get to class!" It was Coach Carson, his eyes trained on Chloe. Her face burning like hellfire, she scrabbled to her drama class and ignored the concerned looks she got.

"You okay?" Liz asked in her ear. Chloe shook her head. "L-L-Liam w-w-was hassling m-me in the hallway but Coach s-saw and t-told us to get to class," she choked out, inhaling the familiar scent of the auditorium. The smell of upholstery and aged pages chased away her fear.

Liz was painting something, working on a background piece for the upcoming musical of _Phantom of the Opera. _Chloe giggled softly. "_Hello, ladies_," purred a voice.

Chloe looked to find a blonde-haired boy with freckles leaning down, trying to look casual and cool but the goofy grin on his face did nothing to help his façade. "Brady, hi," Liz laughed as Brady's girlfriend, Amber, came up and squeezed his sides, causing the boy to scream in a manner similar to a character in a horror movie.

"Oh…my…god," he panted; his cheeks flushed as he gasped for breath, looking like an angry kitten. Chloe laughed despite herself and forgot about Liam and Royce and Derek.

Well, scratch the last one.

oOo

"Higher," instructed Miss Talbot, hitting a sharp note on the piano as Liz tried to hit the high note, using the air in her diaphragm. She was working on the solo audition piece from _wishing you were somehow here again_, practicing the high notes and lows, trying to hit them. Miss Talbot nodded, smiling.

"Very good," she said, laying her hands in her lap. "Now, you try." Her gray-haired head jerked towards Chloe, who sat with her head in her history textbook, flipping through the pages and scribbling down the answers she thought were best.

"W-what?" she squeaked as her blue eyes widened. Miss Talbot's smile grew. "Come, sing," she repeated, a knowing twinkle in her eyes. Chloe shook her head as she fumbled with her homework, hunkering down.

"I-I-I—"

"Don't be such a spoilsport!" Liz laughed and swung Chloe's beat up textbook out of her lap. "I-I-I—" "Come _on_," Tori said, sharply, her dark eyes twinkling slightly as she looked at the them over her new copy of Bram Stoker's _Dracula_. Chloe scowled. "I-I d-don't sing," she grumbled. "Maybe you can Christine—" Liz began breathlessly, a faraway look in her eyes as Chloe snorted.

"—And Derek could be Erik!" the cheerleader giggled as Chloe's face turned redder than a tomato. Tori smirked and closed her book. "I-I—I do-don't—" The tiny girl stammered, her face bright red.

"_Come on!_" Tori and Liz yanked her out of her seat and all but shoved her onto the mini-stage. She stumbled, ungracefully as Miss Talbot beamed, happy.

Mustering all her courage, Chloe sent her friends a dark glare that wouldn't have even scared a kitten, which made them burst into laughter. Her face flamed horribly. "I'm going to start," Miss Talbot announced and the piano started, slow and soft, gentle, like a lullaby.

The music washed over her, familiar.

_"Y-Y-You were once my_—This is ridiculous!" she cried, feeling the pinpricking of tears build up behind her eyes. Tori smiled encouragingly, which was odd because she rarely smiled. _Go on, _she mouthed. Chloe clenched her fists.

She began to sing, quietly, feeling the tension in her body hum, vibrate, and grow. She could feel everything, like it was in HD, every tiny hair on her arms, every goosebumps on her skin, every bead of moisture on her armpits.

When she ended, the room was silent and then a loud wolf whistle made her ears ring painfully. Smirking knowingly, Liam and Royce stuck their heads in and she felt dirty under their eyes, like they were undressing her.

Miss Talbot shot them angry looks until they left when she threatened to call security.

oOo

At the end of the day, she sat on the school steps, waiting for Milos, idly flipping through her texts from Kari and Beth, when a shadow fell across her. "It's nice to see you again, Chlo," said the owner of the shadow.

Chloe looked up and Rae's familiar, dark eyes met hers. "H-H-Hello, R-R—"

"Still haven't o-o-overcome t-t-that st-st-stu-utter?" she mocked with a laugh, pushing her hair away from her bare shoulders. In her pink tanktop and denim skirt, she looked like a model, the kind of girl that guys tripped over themselves to ask out, with lots of curves and lots of self-confidence. Her long limbs gleamed like bronze in the light.

Tan lines as light as vanilla pudding stood out of her shoulders.

"How _are _you?" Rae asked, reaching into her handbag to pull out a compact and fix her hair, which fell around her shoulders in copper braids. "Still living with your mom?"

An angry, hot ball of dread coiled in Chloe's stomach. "No. It's kind of hard when she's dead." Rae didn't even bat an eyelash. "It's hard, isn't it? Living with a crazy aunt and absentee daddy," Rae said flippantly, the bangle-bracelets on her arm clanking loudly as she rifled through her bag, looking for something.

It rang hollow in Chloe's ears.

"My boyfriend is picking me up," Rae continued, an air of arrogance making Chloe's stomach hurt. "Oh, there he is!" the copper-haired girl squealed and bounced towards the school, her skirt flashing bare skin.

Chloe turned. And stared and stared as Rae snuggled up in Royce's arms, a smirk on her face. Chloe bit down on her tongue to keep from stuttering when he sneered down at her and pushed forward an air of indifference, just like a certain hulk she knew.

"Hi, baby," Royce growled at Rae and then they proceeded to play tonsil hockey on the walk passed Chloe, Royce lightly kicking her hip. He gave her a dark smile, one that promised hurt in her future, and then they walked towards the parking lot, towards a grey-green Jeep.

She climbed into the passenger seat and he into the driver's side and they roared out. Chloe waited until they left to let the little sobs escape.

Rae always did know how to push her buttons, piss her off, and drag up old wounds and splash acid in them.

"Who the hell—oh." And just like that, her day went from bad to worse. Why, why, _why _did it _have _to be _Derek? _She wiped at her face and glowered at the empty parking spot as a flutter of movement caught her eye.

She turned her head.

"You seem to like being in places where people can step on you," he rumbled. "Shut up," she snapped as she yanked up her bag and everything came tumbling out. Notebooks and papers and her big, zip-up binder scattered across the ground. A little picture fluttered to the ground, right next to Derek's foot. As Chloe scrambled to cram things back into her bag, he crouched down and picked up the picture.

She knew what he saw: a young, happier Chloe with a sulking Rae, age eleven, at Chloe's birthday party, Jacinda (Rae's mom) standing next to Jennifer, grinning.

"Friendship isn't magic, huh?" he muttered and she got to her feet, zipping up her bag. She spun to glower up at him and snatched the picture out of his grasp.

"No," she whispered brokenly, noticing Milos staring at her from her car, "it isn't." She hoisted her backpack up and headed down the sidewalk.

It wasn't until she settled into the car and reassured Milos that yes, she was fine and no, that boy wasn't bothering her, he was helping her pick up her things, that she felt her phone vibrating.

_A new text message from DerBear _flashed across the lock screen. **Rae's a bitch, isn't she? **

She couldn't have found a better word and agreed more whole-heartedly.


	4. Chapter 4

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 4

Surrender all your cookies

"Remind me _again _why I'm taking home ec?" Chloe muttered to her partner, a nice boy named Peter. He was geeky, with curly tawny hair and big blue eyes and he was easy to talk to.

"I think everyone should learn to cook," he told her as they scooped out chocolate chip cookie batter onto the baking tray. "That way, when you're older, you won't get fat from fast food." She shook her head, her hair swinging in its ponytail. "That's my life goal," she joked.

He made a face as he loaded the cookies into the oven and they began to clean up their station. "How many?" Chloe glanced at him over her shoulder.

"Two dozen." Peter waggled the box at her. "Seriously? Who needs twenty four cookies?" she asked. "Derek would eat the entire thing if you let him." She shrieked in surprise and spun around; Nate was leaning against their table, his face speckled with flour.

"He would."

Simon hopped up on their table, grinning. "The way to his heart is through his stomach." She shot him a glare. "Why would I—"

"We're all waiting on bated breath to hear you confess your undying love to him," Peter said, straight faced. Chloe's cheeks burned. "I don't—" she began but the buzzer cut her off. She scrabbled forward and yanked open the door. The smell was slightly crispy.

"Alright," called Miss Talbot, an older woman in her mid-fifties. "Clean up now."

Peter told Chloe to take the cookies and even gave her a box to put them in, a see through tubaware container with a red lid and a bow. She swiped two for herself and nibbled on them as she eased the rest into the plastic container, trying not to burn herself.

Unfortunately, someone knocked into her just as she finished and the pan hit her wrist. She yelped and dropped it. "Chloe?"

"I-I-I—" she stuttered as Miss Talbot inspected the burn and ran it under cool water. "Do you want to go to the clinic?" the elderly woman asked. Chloe shook her head. "I-I-I'm f-fine."

Miss Talbot gave her a hard look as Chloe picked up her backpack and her cookies and scrambled out of the room like a moron. The hallway was a sea of kids jostling and pushing each other; someone screamed right next to her. A boy elbows her in the ribcage and she nearly face-planted into the floor when someone tripped her.

A hand gripped her arm and pulled her upright. "T-Thanks," she squeaked as she turned. Green eyes met hers. Derek. He let go of her arm and his hand dropped limply by his side. "Don't trip in the damn hallway."

He was sweaty and his cheeks were flushed; his jugular drummed against his skin with the rush of blood; she didn't see a gym bag anywhere. Was he sick?

"Here."

She handed him the cookies and he cocked an eyebrow. "W-we ma-made these in Home Ec b-b-but it's o-only me and my aunt a-a-and I can't eat all these and Simon said y-you liked chocolate chip c-cookies so I—" He held up a hand, cutting her off, and popped the lid.

"They smell good."

A smile broke out across her face. "Yeah," she muttered, biting her lip as he bit into a cookie. Chewed. His eyebrows rose. "They're good," he told her. Surprise laced his voice and she crossed her arms over her chest, scowling.

"Is that such a surprise?" she asked, feeling insulted. "Normally, Miss Talbot normally screws up the simplest stuff," he said. A bit of humiliation lifted. "And it comes out pretty nasty." His lip curled in disgust and she couldn't stop the laugh that burst out of her mouth.

"Chloe!"

It was Kari and Beth, standing at the end of the hallway. Kari was waving her arms like a road cop directing traffic and Chloe giggled.

"Weird," Derek muttered as he bit into another cookie—they were almost gone now—as she rolled her eyes and walked off. "Bye…DerBear."

oOo

After changing into her gym uniform, Chloe headed out of the locker room and yelped, ducking down to avoid a basketball to the face. Rae smirked. "Sorry," she sneered as she picked up the ball and trotted back.

Mr. Travis, one of the three gym teachers, didn't say a word about their blatant violation of dress code; instead, he pointed out the sides of the gym that were for soccer, basketball, football, and running. Chloe didn't notice the way he was staring at her, an unnerving fashion.

She brushed a curl out of her face and headed for the bleachers, eyes trained on Derek's hulking form. He was one of those guys that went all out during gym and he was like a predator, all ferocity and no mercy. It was almost amusing.

She sat down and watched him, admiring the way his muscles moved, no, the way _he _moved, with a fluidity and grace, just like a wolf. His shirt was damp with sweat and it dripped down his face in rivulets; many of the girls squealed in mock-anger when he came too close to them but Chloe could hear them twittering about how "hot" he way.

She wouldn't deny that he was attractive, just not in an All American-Boy way; he was attractive in a dark, forbidden way. He was intimidating, to say the least, but she'd seen the looks that girls gave him when they passed in the hallway, heard the sighs that followed him down the hallway.

Sure, he had the most exotic eyes she'd ever seen but having really nice eyes didn't mean he was hot. On top of that, he was a total jerk to everyone…well, not everyone. He was polite to Simon and Liz and bickered with Tori, but he was never really mean to her.

Someone dropped down beside Chloe and several girls glowered at her. Looking up into his sweaty face, she could see why many of the girls wistfully stared after him.

He was handsome, sure, with his sharp nose and rough jaw line, his full lips, deep set eyes all arranged an in attractive manner. His hair was long, needing a trim, and fell around his face; nothing emo, just like he hadn't bothered to trim it. He was muscular, that much she could tell, especially from the size of his muscular forearms and neck.

"Chloe?"

She looked up at him then and she saw his molten glass eyes. "Hm?"

"Cookies."

He was looking down at her as he flopped onto the seat. "Cookies?" she repeated, confused. "That's your contact name in my phone. 'Cause you make great cookies. Just like how you've got _DerBear _in yours."

She laughed and he almost cracked a smile.


	5. Chapter 5

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 5

The Pseudo Prince

"A prince?" Kari asked excitedly, her nose ring flashing off the light. Chloe's cheeks warmed. "You guys make it sounds so—"

"Romantic?" Beth giggled, licking the yogurt off the lid of her container as she tried to keep her curly, dark hair out of it. The girls were sitting at lunch, talking about Chloe's dream about a prince on a horse. "—Dramatic," the blonde finished blandly, biting into her lettuce wrap thoughtfully. Listening to her friends' banter, she thought about Derek.

He still hated her, of course; every time they passed in the hallway, he'd give her this look of…something she couldn't name. It was like the playfulness had been sucked out of their conversations; everything was so snippy and short now when he spoke to her. She hated it with a passion; why couldn't he trust her as she trusted him? She may have trusted him with her life but that didn't mean he'd feel the same…

Chloe stared distantly ahead, focusing on the sea of faces. Porcelain-pale, peach, tan, dark like chocolate. Brown eyes, green eyes, blue eyes, grey. Curvy bodies, thin bodies, willowy. Short, tall, lean, chunky. A crowd of faces stared back at her. One face stuck out though.

A boy's face, with dangerous, dark eyes, swarthy black hair and a black leather jacket. He looked lethal and her heart leapt in her chest as his eyes met hers. Her cheeks flaming, she looked away to her lunch as her friends giggled and screamed across the table.

When she looked up, he was gone.

"Who was that?" she asked Kari as they headed for gym class. "Who? I don't see anyone," said the pink-haired girl, flipping her curls away from her freckled shoulder. "The guy—" Chloe began but cut herself off when she realized Kari would overreact over her seeing a mysterious guy.

"Oh, no one. I just thought I saw someone who looked familiar," the blonde said quickly and changed the subject to Beth's latest boy of affection.

oOo

Outside, the rain drowned out everything light. The clouds were a wet ashy color and poured down torrents of cold, unrelenting rain; what happened to the clear blue sky and warm breeze that she'd felt this morning on the walk inside?

Sighing, Chloe turned the page of her book and traced the letter with her fingertip distractedly. She saw someone standing outside, talking with someone. Curiosity winning over her logic, she set down her books and tiptoed out of the library. The exit was a few feet away and she quickly, quietly as she could, pressed it open when she got to it.

Heart thumping, she glanced over her shoulder. No one. Breathing a sigh of relief, she ducked into the alcove overlooking the bus lineup and peeked around the corner. It was the boy from earlier, the one from the cafeteria, talking with…Simon. A lit cigarette hung from the mystery boy's lips and smoke lingered, despite the rain. They were talking vividly about something and then the boy shrugged and stomped out his cigarette.

She inched closer to hear better but ended up slipping and nearly ruining her clothes with mud. Thank god for concrete, however unforgiving it may have been on one's hands and knees.

"You _know _he likes her," Simon was saying, waving his thin hands through the air, raking his fingers through his hair, an agitated look on his face. _Likes who? _Chloe wondered. "I haven't spoken a word to her and she's not in any of my classes," the mystery boy muttered. A scowl darkened the basketball player's face. "Tell your little buddies to back off," he hissed, pushing a finger into the dark-haired boy's chest.

"They won't listen. I keep telling them, 'Back off. Derek'll kick your asses if you mess with her,' but—" He pulled out another cigarette, lit it and took a deep, deep drag. On the exhale, he continued, "—they don't listen to little, old Ramon. They want her so they can hurt him." Derek. They were talking about Derek. Why?

"I never understood why Royce and Liam hate my brother so much," the basketball player said.

Rain soaked Chloe's hair and clothes and she shivered, despite the humid, hot weather. Tugging her damp t-shirt away from nonexistent breasts, she ducked out of sight as Ramon said, "Neither do I. Head inside. I'm gonna finish my smoke and then head back in." Chloe found there was nowhere to hide! She panicked.

Something warm shadowed over her and she glanced up. To her surprise, it was the smoking boy, casually shielding her from Simon's view yet he kept a tight grip on her wrist as Simon walked back into the building, shoes squeaking all the way down the hall. A lifetime passed before Ramon spoke, turning to face her slowly.

"I don't know how much you heard, princess, or how long you've been there but I do know one thing." He leaned down, spoke puffing out of his nostrils like a dragon, and met her eyes. There was something about this guy, despite obviously being dangerous, that made her gut seize up. "Anything you heard is not to be repeated. As far you're concerned, you never stepped out here and listened to us like Harriet the Spy," he said, nodding slowly.

"Right?" he breathed and, despite the cigarette, his breath was a wave of spearmint. Chloe quickly nodded. "Good." Ramon straightened and shrugged off his jacket. He reminded her of one of the boys from S.E. Hinton's _The Outsiders_, with his white v-neck tucked into his jeans, sticking to his skin, slick from rain, like he stepped out of a fantasy novel.

"Here." His look left no room for argument and she quickly tugged it on; it was three sizes too big on her and smelled like boy sweat and cigarette smoke. With a hand on the small of her back, he steered her back to the door but she doubled back and stood next to him, watching the rain.

"I'm Ramon."

"Chloe Saunders."


	6. Chapter 6

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 6

The Zachary Cain Massacre

"HE'S NOT THAT bad," Chloe muttered, wiping her index finger across the lid of her yogurt. Kari was pounding it into her brain that Ramon was nothing but trouble; he wasn't like Royce, with his leering looks and smart mouth or Rae, her sharp tongue and cutting words. He was polite, closed off and completely untouchable. Kind of like Derek Souza.

"I hear he's gay." Beth licked her fingers free of maple syrup. "I hear he's a serial killer." Kari waved a forkful of spaghetti at the blonde.

"So, he's a gay serial killer?" someone behind them said. Chloe whipped around her, her cheeks coloring viciously as Ramon stared down at them, arms crossed. His hair fell around his ears in choppy waves, growing out from his recent haircut. "I assure you and your friends, Chloe, I am most definitely not a serial killer."

"So you're gay?" Kari butted in, waving her plastic fork at him like it was a sword. He leveled his gaze at her. "No," he said coolly, adjusting the collar of his leather jacket. "So what are your intentions towards our baby?" demanded Beth sharply, towering above him a good few inches. She was 5'11 where as Ramon was only 5'8.

"_Intentions?_" he echoed with a look of distaste, two red splotches coloring his cheeks. "I have _no _intentions towards Chloe," he murmured quietly. Silence perforated the air before he continued sharply, "I am not Royce or Liam. I have a moral code and I stick to it." His jaw clenched and his lip jutted out. "Besides, I harbor no romantic feelings towards your little baby. This is completely and utterly _platonic_."

He turned and walked away, without a jerk of anger step, as flawlessly walking as he'd done earlier. Chloe relaxed. So he didn't like her; that was good. The last thing she needed was some Twilight crap.

Now, she turned back to her astonished friends and said, "What were you saying?"

oOo

English was Chloe's strong suit. Even though Derek sat next to her and all she could concentrate on was his sharp Axe and the way his hands looked, she always managed to get eighties to one hundreds.

"Today, class, I'm going to assign you partners for a project. It counts as fifty percent of your grade. The assignment is to write something about your partner, an alternate universe, a love story, whatever it may be," Miss Talbot explained, waving a stack of papers at them.

Chloe's skin prickled as she snuck a glance at Derek. His green eyes locked on hers and her face warmed as she sank lower in her seat. He let out a sound that suspiciously reminded her of a laugh.

"Liam and Michelle, Alex and Joseph…" The list went on until Chloe heard her name. "Chloe and Derek." Her face went hot as he raised an eyebrow at her while Miss Talbot continued listing off names. Leaning down to her, Derek whispered in Chloe's ear, way too softly to be appropriate, "I don't bite."

"Good. I don't need to get a rabies shot," she said without thinking. He snorted a laugh. Her cheeks burning, she looked away and glared at the back of Miss Talbot's head.

"Unless you have laser beams for eyes, Saunders, you should stop that," Derek said. "Would it kill you to use my first name? This isn't some fanfiction or hell, even Harry Potter," she snapped. He blinked at her slowly. "You know what fanfiction is?"

Refusing to answer that question, she turned her attention to the project rubric.

oOo

"Saunders," he said, catching her arm gently as he went to walk out the door. The hallway buzzed with activity, kids screaming and yelling, swearing, shoving each other playfully, girls clumped, boys mockingly rough housing.

Her face felt like it was on _fire_ as he spoke directly to her, his eyes never leaving her face. Derek fucking Souza was _talking _to her. Talking to _her_, a little miss nobody who everyone thought needed to be protected, shielded from the Big Bad World.

She stared at him, memorizing every feature, the slight tilt of his nose, the scar on his lip, the scab on his chin. Stubble lined his jaw and cheeks, maybe not even a day old; sweat dripped down his temples, barely even noticeable from a distance of three inches; his top lip looked redder and more swollen than his bottom one. He kept wiping his left hand on his leg, from his hip to just above his knee. A nervous tick?

"…we can meet on Saturday," he was saying when she tuned back in. "What?" she blurted out. Annoyance flashed across his face and she immediately regretted even opening her mouth. Cheeks burning, she tore her arm out of his grasp. "Ne-nevermind," she muttered and started down the hallway.

He watched her leave, Kari told Chloe as they walked to class, seeing as she'd had been watching the entire thing. When he noticed the people staring, he'd sneered and stormed away.

The metal of her pendant bit into her hand as she clenched and thought, _Mother, please preserve what little friendship I've extended to him. Help me not to screw up. _

oOo

"I have to go to my English partner's house on Saturday," Chloe sighed, resting her hand on her cheek as she put off her Geometry homework. Lauren Fellows, her aunt, looked up from making chicken casserole. "Who?" she asked.

"Some guy."

As soon as the words popped out, her aunt immediately went into Mama Bear mode and Chloe was regretting ever opening her mouth. "Who is this guy?" Lauren demanded, looking strikingly like lawyer. If Chloe squinted, she might've been able to see the resemblance between her and Jennifer, Chloe's deceased mom.

Just the thought of her mother sent a pang of pain through her chest.

"Some guy named Derek Souza." The dish clattered on the stove, dropped from shaking fingers. "Souza?" repeated the older woman shakily. Color drained from Lauren's face. "Yeah, why?" Chloe asked slowly, watching her aunt.

"I'll talk to Miss Talbot, see if I can get her to change your partner to someone else. I can't believe—" Lauren was ranting when Chloe said, loudly now, "What? No! You can't!"

"Like hell I can't! I won't stand for a _monster _like _him _in the same room as my innocent niece!" snapped Lauren, slamming down the dish. The sound made Chloe cringe back but she asked anyway, "What do you mean?"

Lauren leveled her stare. "Do you know who Zachary Cain is?" she murmured softly. Chloe shook her head.

"He killed over two hundred thirty people and claimed to haven eaten one hundred fifty, all girls ages ten to seventeen. On the night they went to arrest him, they found his entire family slaughtered, his wife brutally mutilated and hung outside their house for all the world to see, the children shot in their beds but want to know what they _didn't _find?" Lauren's face loomed. "His body. He was never found. They called it _The Zachary Cain Massacre._"

"What does that have to do with Derek?" demanded Chloe.

Her aunt shook her head slowly, wisps of red-brown hair escaping her ponytail. She looked more like her father. Jennifer took after their mom. "Derek Souza is Derek Cain, Zachary Cain's son. And he's already been in trouble several times with the law," Lauren said.

"What do you mean?"

Lauren sucked in a deep breath. "What I say is not to leave this room," she whispered, staring hard at her niece. Chloe felt chills crawl up her spine.

"He broke a teen's back in a fight, forcing him and his 'family'—" The sneer in her tone made Chloe bristle. "—to relocate. He's a menace and I will make sure _everyone _knows it." Her aunt turned away.

"He's not a menace," Chloe argued, "but you are." Lauren froze for a second, fumbling with the oven door. "Get out, now," her aunt said. Chloe slammed the chair hard enough to shatter it and stalked out of the house.

Derek Souza…Zachary Cain.

She needed to do some research. Still, she couldn't shake off the chills that slid into her and tiptoed through her veins as the shadowy night fell down like a veil and the monsters in her head danced and howled, taking over her imagination.

Was Derek really a serial killer's son?


	7. Chapter 7

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 7

Library Dates

_Zachary Cain's body __was never recovered from the ashes and he vanished without a trace; he is one of the most notorious serial killers in America, known through the entire world, just as Jack the Ripper. It's believed that he is to have born a son but no evidence has been found to support that rumor. _

Chloe rested her cheek in the upturned palm of her cheek, eyes moving, scanning without seeing. Every book, the untouched ones in the back of the library coated in layer upon layer of dust, she'd searched did nothing to damper her growing doubt. Every empty lead sent her heart plummeting.

_Derek's dad is _not _a serial killer; even if he _was, _Derek is still, and always will be, just Derek…right? _

She closed the book quietly and stacked it on top of the growing tower beside her, precariously perched beside her elbow as she picked up the next one, leather-bound with gold engravings. _The Life and Death of America's Most Dangerous Serial Killer and Other Conspiracies. _Her vision tunneled and blurred at the edges, like someone had set her eyes to the eighty percent Gaussian Blur in Adobe Illustrator; she leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes slowly, counting the breaths it took for the red and yellow flashes behind her eyelids to fade away.

"What are you doing?" spat an unmistakable voice. She opened her eyes as someone yanked her chair back down onto four legs, making her teeth click. Chloe twisted around and her voice seemed to have left her. Derek Souza stood beside her, backpack hanging off one giant shoulder, looking positively unearthly in his dark clothes. His eyes narrowed at her as a tic in his jaw quivered.

"_The Life and Death of America's Most Dangerous Serial Killer and Other Conspiracies?_" Something dark crept into his voice and a cold feeling crawled up her spine, every hair on her arms rising to attention. She looked at him, quietly, noticing the way his eyes kept staring, unseeingly, at the cover of her book, his hands clenching and unclenching, nervous—upset?

"What is _this_ for? How To Become a Teenage Serial Killer?" he sneered but his voice wavered at the end a tiny bit.

"F-for pe-ersonal reasons," she managed to choke out, standing up. The chair teetered but neither of them moved to catch it as it fell backwards, hitting the floor hard. The sound seemed to shake him out of whatever was wrong and his nostrils flared.

"You're even crazier than I thought, Saunders," he said slowly, mockingly. A spike of anger staked through her as she collected her tower of books and headed for the check-out desk, ignoring him as he trailed behind her.

The librarian's fingers flipped through the pages and scanned the codes in faster than Chloe thought was humanely possible. "Serial Killers of America?" the librarian said, his face full of suspicion. _He thinks you're crazy. _"I-it's a pe-personal proj-ject," she muttered, scraping off the peeling bits of nail polish from her growing nails as she hurried away, her face burning. _Derek probably thinks you are too, _a little voice said.

"I'm not crazy," she grumbled aloud, and then froze, her cheeks burning as a few heads turned to her. Wanting nothing more to leave, she turned away and hoisted her backpack up on her shoulders and headed for the door. A huge body blocked her. A quick glance told her it was her English partner.

"We still have to me—" he was saying.

"I-I tho-ought we were Saturday," she interrupted, avoiding his intense green eyes. "I cant. Something came up." He shifted slightly and wouldn't meet her eyes. "I don't care what you want to write about me," he said suddenly, "as long as it isn't a damn Twilight fanfic."

She bit her lip to smother the laughter that bubbled. "What about paranormal?" she asked.

"Like what?"

He was leaning against the wall now, looking cold and collected but a little shaky. His pulse drummed against his neck. "A werewolf," she blurted and her cheeks warmed when he rumbled something. _He's _laughing, she realized with a jolt. _At me._ _He's laughing _at _me. _

Her face on fire with embarrassment and humiliation, Chloe shoved passed him with all her might and slammed open the door, breathing in the dingy air from the neighboring cafeteria. "Saunders," he barked and she forced herself to keep going, even as she heard the thundering footfalls behind her. That was something she'd noticed. When he was upset, he walked heavy, like every bit of huge man he was; when he wasn't, he walked as stealthily as a cat creeping on prey.

Him the cat; her the prey. She felt dizzy and a churning rose in her belly when a hand fastened firmly around her wrist, stopping her dead in her tracks. "_What_?" she spat with way more venom than she meant to. Something in his eyes hardened and for a second, she could've sworn she could see the killer in his eyes, a replica of the haunting look in Zachary Cain's eyes from the books.

"I wasn't—Me? A _werewolf?_" he sputtered as she yanked her arm out of his grasp and cradled it protectively, inspecting it, only seeing a slight impression from the scrunchie she was wearing on her wrist. His face darkened in a flash when he saw her looking at her arm, like she'd expected him to hurt her.

She wasn't really fragile; but, to be completely fair, Derek outweighed her by about two hundred pounds and several feet packed with attractive muscles. "I-I di-didn't think you'd h-hu-urt me," she blurted. His eyes narrowed even more.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're really strong, aren't you? You outwe-eigh me by about two hundred pounds, but you aren't fat; you're r-r-really muscular. I'm just saying a girl who barely weighs one hundred pounds soaking wet and isn't even five feet is easily hurt by someone as huge as you."

He blinked down at her.

"Was that an innuendo?" he asked. Her face burned. "Oh my god, no!" she shrieked in mortification. Silence stretched out between them.

"Here. It's got my address on it. We're doing it Friday afternoon at 5." He shoved something at her and she reached out to catch it, instead winging up tripping and smacking herself on his chest. His rough, massive hands steadied her.

"Oh…god…I ran into a brick wall," she groaned as she stumbled back dazedly, watching the pretty birds twirled around her head. He did the weirdest thing then.

He laughed. A lovely, dark, rich sound, like dark bells.

And dear God help her, she fell even more for him.


	8. Chapter 8

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 8

The Red Stripes

"It was Tori's idea," she moaned as she buried her face in her hands. Simon sucked in his top lip as he studied her hair, examing the red pieces she'd decided to dye that weekend. On Friday, Tori had driven Chloe home and promptly slept over; however, during the night, she'd convinced Chloe to put red streaks in her hair. Her aunt flipped this morning.

"It'll really pop," Tori had said, handing her the tube. "It'll make you look older and then Derek can date you without feeling like a pedophile," Tori had said. Somehow, she knew about Chloe's crush and didn't really care, so long as she didn't walk in on any handsy make out sessions. "'It'll be fun,' she said," Simon said in a high, girly voice that made Chloe giggle and wipe away her tears.

The red had come out very bright and Chloe thought she looked like a candy cane.

"A stripper candy cane," Nate giggled under his breath and she promptly kicked him in his shin as hard as she could. It was funny how your best friend can make you resort to violence like you're a third grader all over again.

"It's not bad," Liz told her, looking very sincere as she handed Chloe a fine-toothed comb. "Like you can say that, you look at least nineteen with boobs! Like, _actual _boobs," Chloe grumbled as she combed out her hair. All day she'd been getting stares and _not _the friendly kind.

_Especially _from that dirt bag, Royce. He'd been eyeing her up and down like she was a piece of damn candy and all she wanted to do was fucking knock his teeth out. See who'd smirk now. She was interrupted from her morbid daydream by an all-too-familiar voice. "Damn it, Tori," sighed the deep, rumbling voice. _Derek._

The blonde glared down at her clenched fists, wrapping in her black sweater, to avoid looking at him.

"It came out _great_," Tori said in surprise, hopping up on a table. "I as worried with your hair being so thin that it might not come out nice," she continued conversationally, crossing her legs. She looked like a dark goddess in her knee-length black skirt and big, monster boots and lacey top that showed off her smooth breastbone; her shoulder-length spiky hair was a wild mess around her face but styled artfully, like she _wanted _to look wild and predatory.

"It really does," Derek said to Chloe quietly as he sat down next to her. Every inch of her brain was flood with the mere _presence _of her crush. He was dressed in a black hoodie and even darker jeans, looking like a ruffled teenage Hades, with his overlong hair pulled back into a bun and his bangs in his green, green eyes.

"It d-do-does?" she said hesitantly, looking up at him from under her lashes. "Yeah," he told her, nodding and then he reached up with a massive hand and twirled a piece around his finger, staring at her face. No, not her _face_, her fucking _mouth. _A panicky heat crashed over her as he stopped twirling her hair and just sat there, his intense eyes sucking the backbone out of her.

"I-I sh-should get to cl-class," she managed to squeak and he shook himself, like he was fighting some inner urge. _Like he'd _ever _look at you like _that_, _she thought darkly as she gathered her books and backpack and headed down the main hallway. It took her a second to realize she had to walk down the library hallway by herself and that was where Royce normally prowled.

"I'll walk you, Chloe," Derek offered in a tone that meant no arguing and she felt him brush her arm, gently. A wave of relief pushed away the embarrassment and flustered feeling as they walked in silence, her mind whirring with a million things she could say—_Hey, I like what you did with your hair. Nice weather we're having, aren't we? My, what lovely eyes you have. Hey, I just met you, and this crazy, but here's my number, so call me maybe. Really, Chloe? _Really? _You're a complete _idiot. _You just thought of _that _song?_—but settled for nothing instead, counting her footsteps in a loud, screaming voice to drown out her battling voices.

"Chloe?" He had his shoulders hunched, slouched as they headed right, down a long, crowded hallway. He was so tall, she had to crane her head back to look at him. He was staring straight ahead, like he wasn't talking to her.

A group of popular girls grinned at her hair and one, a pretty Asian girl with a My Little Pony backpack, said she liked it. She sounded sincere and Chloe smiled. The girl smiled back, revealing a mouthful braces.

"Are you still coming over?" he asked. "'Casue I know what people say about me and I could ask Miss Talbot to change—"

"No!" Chloe blurted and stumbled into the vending machine. Heads turned, watched her blink away the stars, and look impish. "I m-meant, I-I re-really—" She took a deep breath and clenched her hands into fists. "I don't give a shit about what people say about you."

"Yet you were the one looking up about Zachary Cain," Derek said in a dark voice. "Even if he _was_ your dad, you'll s-st-still be Derek." His face, which had been stormy until then, softened a tiny bit and he pinched his mouth to the side. "Okay," he said and that was that.

They walked in silence as they neared her homeroom. Kids looked at them, eyes wide, but no one spoke a word. "Derek," Chloe said, "About the project, what if I wrote something else? Paranormal, still, but what if it was from your point of view?"

"And what would you be, Chloe? Maybe a necromancer." There was a trace of a smile on his mouth as he mocked gently, teasing. She snorted. "I'd piss myself at the first sight of an actual zombie," she said without thinking.

He looked at her and smiled, a real, honest-to-Circe smile. And she was in way deeper than she thought as he let out a snort of his own and shrugged a shoulder.

"I'll figure something out, Chloe." He turned and walked away and, as she sat down in her chair and waited for class to start and the teacher to show (he was always so late), that she realized it with a grin she couldn't hide from Nate or Simon.

He called her _Chloe. _


	9. Chapter 9

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 9

This Is Bad, DerBear

She stared at the blank word document, the cursor mocking her. _Just one word, _she thought as her fingers hovered over the keyboard. She glanced over at Derek, who was squinting at his screen, typing away, so happily working—or as happily as the grouchy guy could get—and she ground her teeth. The words were there; they just wouldn't form sentences and flow from her fingertips like they normally did.

Sighing, she dropped her head into her heads and stared down at the letters Q, W, E, and R, willing them to become less blurry. It took her a minute to realize she was close to crying and she hurriedly wiped her eyes free of tears. Now wasn't the time to cry; _especially _with her crush _and _arch nemesis in the same room. She willed the words to flow out and all she got was "the fox jumped over the cat" for about fifty lines.

She stared at the mess of words:

The fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat the fox jumped over the cat.

The cursor blinked at the end, taunting her. Irritated, she yanked her hair away from her face and pushed it into a loose bun at the top of her head. From across the room, she could feel Royce's heavy, lustful stare and Rae's glare. Someone coughed loudly as the heat kicked on.

"Wow," Derek muttered in her ear and she jumped, startled at their proximity; her cheeks flamed at Rae laughed meanly before turning back to her partner. "I've got writer's block," Chloe admitted, cheeks flaming, trying hard not to tremble like an excited puppy when his arm brushed hers. "What're _you _writing?" She craned her neck to look at his screen.

_I see nothing. I can't feel or hear or see; there's nothing around me or above me and beneath me and it's like being stuck in a dream. I'm aware of the pain in my nose and throbbing in my chest, my heart pounding loud, blood in my ears. I try to kick; my feet don't connect with anything. _

Her eyebrows rose. "This is pretty good," she told him with a smile, turning to him. His green, green eyes met hers. Had he been staring at her? He was close enough to kiss and she scooted back discreetly; he seemed to catch on and his eyes hardened a tiny bit. "I still can't believe you dyed your hair," he said with a tiny twist of his mouth, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Neither can my aunt. She wants me to dye it back to the original color." Chloe rolled her eyes. "I actually kind of like it," she admitted. "It brings out your eyes," he said.

Her cheeks were on fire. "Really?" she asked in surprise. "Yeah," he murmured, ducking his head down like he was embarrassed; it occurred to her just how different they were. He was rude and mean and coarse and unrefined; she was polite and kind and gentle and quiet. They were polar opposites but, somehow, he'd managed to worm his way into her heart.

Face burning like fire, she turned away, pretending to tie her shoe. The brand new toes of black sneakers pressed flush against hers and she looked up. Her heart plummeted. Royce smiled down her, pretending to look cool and not so creepy but that really hard when the hatred in his eyes burned like acid and his smile was brittle and as inviting as a predator to prey. "Hey, Chlo," he whispered but his voice sounded too loud and breathless in the silent library.

She scooted back but he clapped a hand on her thigh and she froze, terror sliding into her veins, replacing her blood. His nails bit passed the denim of her jeans and he smiled even wider, canines flashing in the light. He looked wild and feral, an animal ready to go in for the jugular; something dark and twisted gleamed in his eyes. "You should watch out for him," he said softly, breath fanning across her face. Had he not been so twisted, she would've surely blushed at their close proximity.

"W-who?" she squeaked as Royce curled a loose wisp of hair around his finger, pulling it gently. When she didn't budge, he yanked a bit harder and she followed, wincing in pain. "The boy with green eyes that you're in love with," he blew in her ear, chuckling when she ducked away. He let go of her hair.

_I didn't even deny being in love with him, _she thought dimly.

"Just watch out for his…temper."

A loud crack made Chloe's head turn and both she and Rae were staring at Derek; Rae with desire, Chloe with surprise. As much as she knew she irritated him, she'd never seen him _angry_. Just grouchy, snappy or rude. Never truly angry.

Now she saw him _angry_. He was rigid like a steel beam, muscles taught; his overgrown hair obscured one eye but the one that was visible was full of pure, acidic hatred. He was trembling gently, so gently that, had she not been so close to him, that she would've missed it. He looked massive and frightening but she wasn't scared of him, not one bit. Because Royce knew how to press buttons and make even the sweetest of people act like a wounded animal.

Chloe turned her back to Royce, ignoring the dirty look Rae was shooting her, and placed a hand gently over Derek's, feeling the heavy, throbbing veins, the warmth of his skin relaxing her. "Hey, we should—" she began, whispering softly, but a cool, calm voice interrupted her.

"What do we have here? Mr. Souza, you've broken the keyboard it seems." Chloe turned to find a tall, skeletally thin man with a large, bald head and vulture like nose that hung down over his thin lips. _Principal Davidoff, I think his name was,_ she thought.

"And who's this?" He smiled, showing clean but coffee-stained teeth. His suit hung off his bony frame like a sail, a cloak of charcoal that he seemed to swim in, yet it seemed to hug him all the while, making him longer and more frighteningly thin, like a skeleton.

"Chloe Saunders, sir," cut in Liz, smiling brightly. "Jennifer's daughter, I presume," came his sweet reply, but something about him made her shy away and fumble for Derek's knee. He bumped her back with his shoulder gently and then his hand landed down on her shoulder, thumb digging circles. His frantic heartbeat thudded against her back.

"I want to speak with you both," he said with another toothy smile. She rose, feeling shaky and trembling all over and Derek followed close behind, laying a hand gently between her shoulder blades.

"This is bad, DerBear," she whispered.

"Yeah," he said after a minute, pushing open the door for her, "it is."


	10. Chapter 10

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 10

Dog House

She was sweating terribly, sweat slicking her palms and underneath her breasts, soaking her bra. She shivered as Derek placed a hand on her shoulder, as if to keep her rooted to the ground. Her mouth tasted sour and bitter, like she'd bitten a lemon. Her heart thumped viciously in her chest, threatening to burst out of her ribcage; blood roared in her ears.

The principal's office was large and spacious but very dim, with a spooky safe light lamp in the corner. Books upon books laced his walls, ceiling to floor; documents lined the spaces between the bookcases, displaying PhDs and MDs. Various pictures of him and students, at fund raisers, and other events were spread out evenly.

"Sit, please, Miss Saunders, Mr. Souza," Principal Davidoff said, waving them to the chairs. A squeeze from Derek as he brushed passed her and took a seat calmly; he looked at ease here so she figured she shouldn't be afraid. Still, the way the principal was watching them unnerved her so she hunkered down into the other seat and avoided looking directly at him.

Her heart was still pounding and she felt rubbery and too light; her hands were shaking violently. Derek was talking ever so often, the rumble of his voice sending her heart beating even faster.

_That's it, _the smart, logical side of her brain said calmingly, _let Derek do the talking. After all, he knows how the adults here are and you really don't; you're still new here. _"Chloe, pray tell, what are you doing with Derek Souza?"

Something in her stomach seized as her head shot up, frightened eyes meeting Davidoff's beady ones. Panic crept down her arms; every hair on her skin rose, goosebumps crawling. "W-wh-what—" She nearly chomped off her tongue as she stuttered, mortified at Derek hearing her stutter like she had when she was a little girl. Something unfurled, hot and vicious in her chest at the way Davidoff indiscreetly shot Derek a look.

"What do you mean?" Chloe's voice came out calm, cold, and surprisingly steady. Mature. She pulled her dark sweater around her hands and balled up the edge of the fabric into her palm, meeting Davidoff's eyes with an expressionless face. Something akin to anger flashed across his lined face before smoothing out. _Interesting, _she thought.

"I mean what is a good student, active with her theatre friends and straight-B grades, with a boy like Derek Souza?" Davidoff said as casually as speaking of the weather. Chloe squeezed her hands into fists and dug her toes into the tips of her sneakers to keep herself grounded. Cheeks aflame, she spat, without the slightest of hesitation, "What do you mean _a boy like Derek Souza_?"

Derek had been slumped in his seat until then, looking irritated but not angry, a bit unhappy really but now he sat up straight, hands gripping the arms of his chair, looking at her through long, black eyelashes.

"He's not exactly a great role model. Been in a lot of trouble over the years." Davidoff loosened his tie, looking uncomfortable.

Chloe pressed her nails into the armrests, biting through the finish and hitting the wood underneath. "Hasn't everyone?" she pressed firmly, feeling the words pile in her throat. Every inch of her wanted to leap out of the chair and scream at the top of her lungs. "Is it because people think his dad is the Sacramento Slasher?" she hissed.

The room grew quiet, deathly so. Derek's jaw jumped; Davidoff grew pallor, like he'd seen a corpse. "I don't know where you—" he stammered but she interrupted him. "People talk, Mr. Davidoff." She was trembling, her cheeks burning crimson; she'd never been so rude to an adult but it felt so good to see the shock in his eyes.

"People always talk. You, of all people, should know that," Derek butted in, his eyes flicking away from the window to stare at Davidoff, who reddened. "I-I-I—" he babbled, eyes widening as he yanked at his collar, looking extremely uncomfortable and panicky. Chloe sat back down and sank into the cushion, feeling Derek watching her.

"Chloe, I think you should go." Davidoff was breathless and red-faced, his cheeks splotchy as he wiped off his brow, sweating furiously. She stood slowly, legs trembling as her heart pounded; she felt sick to her stomach. Derek nodded, eyes trained on Davidoff.

She headed for the door but paused at Derek's seat, staring down at him, wanting to say something, anything, maybe something cool and calm or something sweet but instead she just stared and he reached up and wrapped a curl around his fingers. "Go," he grunted out but his eyes were softer than his voice and she obeyed, legs working her towards the door.

_Be safe. _

The door clicked softly behind her.

oOo

A mixture of anxiety and horror knocked Chloe in the gut hard, a fist of steel as she made her way down the hallway. Everything was blurry and fuzzy, like she'd been sleeping for a while; her hands shook as she stumbled her way to the wall, leaning heavily against it. Each step made her tremble, each step took all her strength and she felt so weak.

The toe of her sneaker caught on an uneven tile and she pitched forward, hitting the ground with her knees first, the fall jarring her to the bone. Her palms slapped the tile as the world span out of her control. She felt sick. She was going to _be _sick. She pushed herself up and pressed a clammy hand against her mouth, feeling bile burn in the back of her throat viciously.

She barely made it to the toilet before she was gone, the contents of her stomach spilling into the porcelain throne, burning and hot and acidic. Tears ran down her burning cheeks as she sat back, gasping and panting for air; every inch of her ached. Faintly, she heard a bell ring—the dismissal bell. Laughter flooded the hallway as she hobbled out of the bathroom and rifled in her backpack for a hair tie; unfortunately, she couldn't find one. Her hair was damp at the temples and curling in an obnoxious, frizzy way.

Her eyes were slightly red, like she'd been crying and her cheeks flushed. "Chloe?" A man's voice asked outside the bathroom. A deep rumble. Familiar. She splashed her face. "Yeah?" she croaked, washing out her mouth until it tasted lighter and then she crammed a piece of spearmint gum into her mouth, ignoring her horrid reflection.

"You okay?" It was Derek, looking down the hallway.

"Yeah," Chloe lied to his face.


	11. Chapter 11

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 11

I wanna ruin our friendship

She noticed it when they were talking during lunch. Royce and Liam were alike, the way their lips curled and arms swayed, the jerk in their walks; it was like they were counterparts. Was there something in the genes here?

She'd watched Derek and Ramon, broad shoulders straining against their shirts; it was odd seeing two boys, both massive and dark, who revolved around her look so strangely alike. Aside from the skin tones and eyes and lip shapes, they could've been siblings.

Ramon, as confirmed, was not in any way romantically inclined towards Chloe, which she was thankful for because, hey, one less drama ridden high school romance. "It's not that you aren't beautiful, you are; just not exactly the right girl for me, per say. Although Derek can't ever seem to take his eyes off you," mused Ramon's deep voice as Chloe washed her hands. He was standing outside the bathroom when she headed out.

"Liam alert," he said flippantly, running his thick fingers through his curls. He looked dark and beautiful, like crushed leather and he had a killer smile; girls seemed to flock but he never hinted at interest, unlike like Liam. Just the _thought _of him touching her sent shivers up her spine. "I'll rip his teeth out if he so much as _breathes _on you," Ramon told her, his face darkening with a hungry, bloodthirsty shadow as they brushed passed the dingy blonde, who grinned wolfishly and licked his chops, reminding Chloe all too much of a starved dog. "I know," she whispered, burying her face in his side.

"Do you have anyone you like?" she asked, peeking up at him over his chest. She'd always wondered what his type was, a friendly curiosity.

His jaw twitched as he shook his head. "No," he bit out and that was that. "Ramon," sighed another voice, deeper than Ramon's and thicker too, gravelly, "The cops arrested Royce this morning." She spun around and saw Derek standing there in a dark black sweatshirt and grey jeans, hair slick from the rain outside, the tip of his nose and cheeks pinker than usual, his acne brighter, eyes gleaming and watching her.

"What for?" Ramon pulled away and Chloe was struck by how alike they looked, both tall and broad and intimidating, black hair and pale skin, dangerous slink to their walk, the swing of their arms against their sides. Ramon looked catlike in his black leather jacket and tight black jeans, his boots thumping with every step he took; Derek looked more wolfish, hair ruffled and lips chapped and cracked, boots silent when he walked.

She sat down on the bench and watched them talk. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rae. Something cold replaced the blood in her veins when she saw the darker girl limping, wincing with every step. Under the harsh fluorescent lights, Rae's makeup looked sickly almost, part of her cheek puffy and hair hanging in wet clumps around her face; her mascara was smudged and eyeliner streaked to one side. She looked like she'd been through hell and back.

She sighed in a tired, exhausted way and Chloe got to her feet, making her way to her ex-friend. Rae glared and quickly turned tail. "Rae," the blonde whispered softly, "what happened?" For a moment, her lips quivered and her eyes looked glossy, ready to cry. "Nothing." Her voice was hoarse and raspy, like someone had choked the life from her and dropped her before she blacked out.

"It was Royce, wasn't it?" Chloe murmured, reaching out. Rae flinched as the fingers made contact with her cheek, thumb wiping away the foundation. "No," she bit out, head turning away. Locks of hair fell over her eyes. "Please—"

"I'm gonna kill him," growled a dark, dangerous voice. Chloe turned. Ramon was vibrating with rage, eyes cold and hard, his entire frame taut. "I'm gonna _kill _him," he spat, darkening face turning towards the front doors. "R-Ramon, pl-please—" Rae started, sounding weak and fragile as she limped closer to him. He stared down at her with a frightening intensity, only half as intense as Derek's, but enough to suck the breath from Chloe's lungs just _imagining _being the target of those eyes. "Don't worry, love," he whispered, stroking pieces of hair from Rae's face, thumb rubbing away her makeup, revealing a dark green bruise that was turning purple at the center, blotted on like zombie makeup. "He'll get what he deserves," he continued in that calming way, his thick Russian accent slipping through, running his fingers through the clumpy locks of dark copper.

Chloe didn't realize she'd been lead away until Derek pulled her into his chest and she breathed in his scent. Pine needles and perspiration slid into her lungs like a delicious toxin, making her close her eyes. His hard arms were roped around her back, pressing her into his chest. "I c-can't believe h-he di-id that," she squeaked, eyes wide in shock, brimming with tears.

He shushed her, stroking his fingers through her curls. Shockwaves ran up and down her nerves, relishing in their closeness. "He's a monster," she murmured, pressing her face into his chest. She could feel his pulse against her cheekbone. "He's too far gone to be human anymore," she whispered, bringing trembling hands up to his back, digging her nails in, her entire body vibrating with tremors. He pressed a hand into her curls, tangling her hair between his fingers, leaning against her, from their chest to their knees pressing, every one of his planes and sharp edges digging into her bumps and smoothness, a contrast like blood against white paper.

She pressed her face into his chest. She clung to him and breathed in his familiar scent, warmth lulling her pounding heart into a calmness that she'd never really had; at least, to be honest, in the two years that her mother had been gone. It got so bad that Aunt Lauren had pushed her into counseling and then berated her for being so dark and angry at everyone, picking fights with her aunt, trying to make her see that she had just lost her mother; it never happened.

Aunt Lauren liked to blame Dad; Dad blamed himself; and Chloe blamed everyone in turn.

"Don't be, Chloe," he whispered, pressing his lips into her hair. He was hot, like fire, burning against her, sending shockwaves up and down her body.

All hell broke loose.


	12. Chapter 12

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 12

Something There That Maybe Wasn't To Begin With

There was a crowd as security pulled Royce off of Ramon, who was sporting a bruised face and bloody nose when he reeled back. He shot Chloe a lopsided grin as she broke through the crowd, wading through the bodies. Ramon's teeth were bloody and there was something white in his palm when he coughed.

It took a long, swaying moment to realize it was his back molar. It took even less for her to black out for a minute and then come back, breathing passed her dizziness.

The entire time, Derek didn't look at her.

oOo

After security broke them up, Royce was escorted into a policeman car and Ramon was taken to the clinic by Liz, walking stiffly at the cheerleader's side, a wad of crimson tissues pressed against his nose; Chloe watched his tense back hobble down the hallway.

He looked grim but also triumphant.

Like he'd lost the fight but won the battle.

"What was _that _about?" she whispered in a weak voice. Derek adjusted his sweatshirt and shrugged, eyes locked on something in the distance; she watched him, heart beating fast as she thought of his lips on her head, his body hot like fire.

Right now, however he looked as cold as ice and her eyes prickled with the promise of tears. Scowling to herself, she bit her cheek and the pain and taste of rusty metal drowned out her sadness. Glancing up at the clock, the time was 8:33 and school started at 8:40.

She turned on her heel and walked away, her heart growing heavier and heavier with each step she took, feeling lead sinking down to her toes.

oOo

The hallway was dim, the lights having gone out, and she felt a sharp prickle of apprehension as she turned out of her geometry class, mourning over yet another failed test.

This morning was replaying in her brain over and over and over, Ramon's bloody grin, Derek's cold eyes, Royce's twisted expression, his lip dripping blood down his chin, the cops twisting his arms behind his back as one of them read him his rights.

"Hello, little girl," sneered a dark, gravelly voice and Chloe's head jerked up, her heart stuttering viciously in her chest. Liam stood at the entrance of the hall leading into the main hallway; people streamed behind him. Panic filled her.

His cold, dark eyes met hers. "You got my friend in big, big trouble, little girl," he said slowly, his lip peeling back to reveal sharp teeth (maybe he filed them like that) and pink gums.

"He got himself in trouble," she bit out, crumpling the paper in her hands, feeling the edges and points digging into her palm. "I'm _not _in the mood to deal with your shit," she said, shrugging off one strap of her backpack as he approached her.

She didn't know what had gotten into her; maybe it was the anger at Derek or adrenaline from Ramon's recklessness; maybe he was rubbing off on her. Liam's eyes narrowed as he squared his shoulders, standing up taller. Liam eyeballed her as she steeled herself, fear coiling deep in the pit of her stomach.

She saw _him_ as she slid the backpack strap into her hands, gripping tight. He was passing when he glanced over and froze in place, people skittering around him. Derek's green eyes stared at her, at Liam's lean back as she locked her knees.

It was as Liam lunged that she swung the backpack off her the floor and the momentum pushed her passed him, missing her by a hair's length and she spilled into the brightly lit hallway, crashing into the floor on her belly, her bag sliding to Derek's toes.

Liam was getting up, rubbing his chin as his lips peeled back, a growl rising. Derek blinked down at her as she got to her feet, trembling. He scooped up her backpack and swung it over his shoulder as he glared down at her.

"You're fucking stupid," he stated as calmly as speaking of the weather as he grabbed her sleeve and pulled her along. She stumbled, legs rubbery as Liam stepped into the darkest shadows of the hallway and his eyes blended in.

Her shoulder throbbed from her fall.

oOo

"That was reckless," Derek spat at her as they stretched during gym class, wearing matching uniforms although he wore the shorts and t-shirt and she wore the tank top and sweats alternative.

Chloe's curly hair tickled the back of neck as she turned to him. "I know," she said quietly, bending down to touch her toes. It was if someone else was in her body, making her do things that weren't Little Chloe Saunders but Big Chloe Saunders, the one who dived right in and took risks in stride; maybe the dark, angry thoughts that ate her alive when the lights went dark were finally manifesting and she was crashing and burning.

Someone hit her with a basketball and she stumbled, whipping around to glare at the culprit. A sandy-blonde boy with a scar on his wrist in the shape of a dog bite ran up, apologizing profusely; his friends nudged each other and whispered.

Her cheeks burned. "It's fine," she muttered, pulling her tanktop back down as she glanced curiously at her taller, broader companion.

Derek glared at her.

"Yes?"

He shuffled his feet, looking nervous. "I—" he began but shut his mouth quickly, chewing his lip. She'd seen him around, trailing after Royce. "I-I'm Austin…Austin Banks." _Royce has a brother? _

She smiled despite herself. Maybe he was just shy; he looked innocent enough, with a huge braced smile and dimpled and big, brown eyes like a dog. He was a few inches shorter than Simon, who was running laps with Liz, but taller than Chloe herself; he was lean, too, with long limbs that he seemed to have a bit of trouble moving in.

"I-I…uh…" Austin stammered, his face turning redder by the minute. Eventually, he gripped the basketball as tight as possible and spat out, "Do you want to go on a date with me?" Poor thing was trembling like a leaf, head bowed as his friends watched with huge, freshman eyes.

"I—" she began but Derek cut her off.

"She wouldn't," he growled.

Austin's eyes went wide as he backpedaled, stumbling over his shoelaces and falling flat on his ass.

Something angry and hot spiked in her chest as his face fell and he angrily wiped his eyes.

"I'd love to."

He grinned so wide, it made _her _cheeks hurt just looking at him as he babbled.

She smiled as he touched her arm when he left, his friends grinning and huddling together.

oOo

Derek didn't speak to her for the rest of the day.

She didn't give a damn.


	13. Chapter 13

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 13

Dead Girl Walking (the Heathers)

Austin was completely opposite of his brother. He was sweet and always tried to make her laugh, which was nice considering Derek had reverted back to his rude ways and was currently ignoring her, only acknowledging her when need be.

"Everyone is afraid of me," Austin told her quietly, twisting his straw around in his chocolate milk. They were sitting at a booth in Friendly's, talking quietly over two bowls of soup. "Because of Royce?" Chloe whispered, feeling herself shiver at his name as she scraped her spoon around the bottom of her bowl, bringing it to her lips quickly, blowing on it to keep from scalding her lips.

He looked awake, biting his lip, braces flashing. "Yeah," he admitted softly, pressing the back of his spoon against the crackers in his soup to drown them. "You're so much different than I thought you'd be," she said, licking her spoon clean as she supported her head with her palm against her cheek. His cheeks reddened. "You don't give me the—" she began but was interrupted.

"Look who we have here." Liam was sneering down at her, looking menacing, with an ugly purple bruise on his cheek and a band aid above his lip. His grey eyes locked on hers and she froze, mouth opening and closing. Austin gripped his glass tighter, knuckles turning white.

"Little Boy and Blondie," Liam spat, grinning to show sharp, yellowing teeth. He looked even more dangerous than before, a cold, malicious angle to his bruised face; his nose was bruised and swollen. He placed his hands on the table, bracing himself, as he locked eyes with Chloe. Something dark boiled inside her throat like acidic bile as he leaned closer. "I would hate for something to happen to your little boy toy over here, Blondie."

She locked her jaw and gripped her glass tighter as he kept speaking quietly, even going so far as to twist her hair around his fingers. The anger was building, frighteningly quickly, filling her stomach with acid and her throat with heat. Austin was staring with wide, frightened eyes; he really _was _just a kid.

She dug her teeth into her cheek until she tasted metallic blood, forcing herself to look calm. She was freaking out on the inside. "How about you and I go somewhere? Just you and me. Sorry, Squirt." Chloe let Liam pull her up out of the booth, a nasty smile on his face promising pain. "Let's go," he said quickly, ignoring Austin completely. "_Chloe_," the younger boy whispered, fear and sadness written all over his face. "Wait a second," she said, minding reeling as she tried to pull her arm away; in response, he gripped tighter. "Ow! You're—" she started but he yanked her sharply. "We're _leaving_," he hissed, baring his teeth in a mad grin. Panic rose in a hot, angry fire as Austin reach for her waist. Liam's face twisted as he shoved Austin away. He cried out as his head cracked on the edge of the table and he crumpled to the floor lifeless.

Without thinking, she dumped the contents of her glass over Liam's head and he let go, stumbling back as water streamed down his face. Her back smacked into the edge of the table. "You little bitch!" he growled and lunged; she pushed with her heels against the booth and the momentum pushed her forward with much more force then she'd ever get by herself. She was swung up into the air by a pair of strong arms. "Alright, knock…"

The voice faltered as the lean, muscular man set her down, holding Liam by his arm. Big, blue eyes stared at her in surprise; two caterpillar red-blonde eyebrows disappeared behind a head of curls the same color. Her heart thumped as he slowly let her go and reached for the radio on his waist.

"We need a medic at Friendly's, 23rd street and 22nd," he whispered into the speaker, never taking his familiar eyes off her. She, in turn, didn't either, not even when Derek entered the restaurant and made a beeline for her.

oOo

"That was reckless and so fucking stupid," Derek said to her, his face dark and stormy as he sat beside her, swirling what was left of his Mountain Dew around and around in his can. She barely touched hers, instead watching her aunt speak with cop who looked so familiar, it made her throat ache with the promise of tears.

As hard as she tried, she couldn't see who he reminded her of. "I know," she replied, sighing as she sipped her soda. The carbonization burn crawled down her throat. "Chloe," said her aunt, heading over; the familiar cop followed slowly. "That was very, very dangerous," he said.

Chloe managed a shrug, setting her soda down. Austin was currently having thirty-two pretty black stitches sewn into his skull…because of her. Something sour turned over in her stomach as she looked passed her aunt, instead staring at the cop.

A patch of daisies branched down his arm and cherry blossoms mixed with roses filled the other. Something clicked. "Mom." The man jumped, startled. The word tasted stale on her tongue. "Chloe," Derek rumbled quietly from her side, touching her shoulder; Lauren's lip quivered.

"My mother loved daisies…and cherry blossoms…roses too," Chloe was saying, her mouth moving, words falling out in a tandem. "Chloe." This time it was Lauren. Blood roared in her ears as she blindly reached about, seeking hard fingers to squeeze. Derek's heat seeped through her.

She felt weak and strong and her mouth tasted metallic. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice cracking somewhere; Derek's heat draped over her shoulders.

Why was he touching her? Didn't he hate her? Wasn't he mad? Maybe he liked to comfort little girls like her. Tongue against her teeth, she gripped his fingers tightly as she could. The cop shifted, looking away from her.

A chain flashed around his throat and, before she could stop herself, she was shoving her hand down his collar and pulling it out.

Her stomach dropped to her toes. Around his neck sat a small oval of grey-purple…with a picture of him and her mother pasted under the glassy surface. "Who _are _you?" she yelled, fire burning in her veins as she straightened her back, shaking off the surprised look of her aunt.

Maybe Derek was rubbing off on her.

"I need to know. Why can't I remember who the _fuck _you are? You look so damn familiar," Chloe said softly, so as not to be heard. Her aunt gasped at the profanities. "So who _are _you? Why are you wearing that necklace around your neck? That's…that was my mother's."

The cop died heavily and crossed his arms. Leaned against the tables mounted to the floor. She was trembling and she felt bile rise in her throat, burning the insides. She felt sick; she felt hot and cold, her eyes burning.

She needed—craved—_had _to know.

"I'm your mother's brother. My name is Ben." He looked so serious that she almost believed him. Instead, she griped her pendant tightly and looked him in the eye, tears in hers.

"My mother never had a brother, you liar."

She turned and stormed out, leaving a veil of silence.


	14. Chapter 14

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 14

It's Been So Long

She knew it was Derek standing next to her because of his giant, white sneakers. Only he'd wear something that huge and chunky. "Don't," she said quietly, her eyes burning with tears that threatened to spill over and down her cheeks, "just…don't." To her horror, her voice cracked and she sounded weaker than before.

"I wasn't—" he began, hesitantly, like he didn't know what to do right now but he stopped quickly. "He showed us the necklace and the resemblance was apparent," he said instead. "So you're siding with him," she spat as her cheeks heated with embarrassment and anger.

"No, I'm just saying it's possible." His warm shoulder bumped hers and stayed there, radiating heat.

"Why wouldn't she have told me? I mean, he's my supposed flesh and blood." Her cheeks stung with tears. "People keep secrets for their own reasons, Chloe," he told her softly, looking pained almost as his side pressed against hers, his hip digging into hers. "I know," she sighed and pressed her heels hard into her eyes. "I know."

They were silent for a very long time, until the air began to cool slightly and the blue sky turned pink, then purple, and then dark blue. The sun ran away; the moon replaced it.

"I need to get home," she said softly. "I'll drive you," he muttered. She tried not to look shocked (or excited) and shrugged. "Let me grab my bag." He followed her in. Nurses and doctors leisurely chatted at the desk. On auto pilot, Chloe turned left and headed down a long, narrow hallway, passing dark rooms and branched off hallways. At the end of the hall was the large, dimly lit cafeteria. Aunt Lauren was gone as was the mystery "I'm your uncle" Officer Ben Fellows.

She paused.

His tag had read _Fellows_, not a very common last name_. _When she saw her bag, she went to pull it up but froze as she saw him. The police officer. Her uncle. "Chloe," he whispered and stepped closer; she backed up and bumped into Derek's hard stomach. His hands steadied her shoulders. She felt the thump of his heartbeat against her shoulder blade. "I know it's hard to believe but maybe I can take you out for lunch tomorrow. Your boyfriend can join us, if he wants to," Ben said in a rush.

Chloe's cheeks flamed at him assuming Derek was her boyfriend. "Maybe," she muttered. Ben smiled and nodded, brushing his curls back. "Good," he told her and bid them goodnight.

"He seems nice," she admitted, "but my aunt…she's hard to get along with. High strung." Derek snorted as he walked her to his car.

It was as she climbed into the passenger seat that he spoke.

"She should meet Tori."

oOo

The ride home was enjoyable…sort of. It was far more comfortable than riding with Aunt Lauren, who always pestered her about boys and grades and mean kids, whereas Derek played some classical music quietly and hardly spoke.

She had the nagging sensation that he was angry with her. "Are you mad at me?" she asked, wiping her sweaty palms on her thighs. "No," he said shortly. Chloe's stomach twisted fiercely. "Not at you," he relented after a moment, switching lanes. The roads were surprisingly quiet, a few cars passing their own. She fell silent. "Who are you angry at?" she questioned after a moment.

"No one," he told her sharply, flicking on his indicator and switching lanes again, passing a red mustang. The driver flipped them off. She thought she saw a tattoo of something on the inside of the guy's wrist before he hit the gas and flew down the road. "Idiot's gonna kill someone," Derek growled softly as he continued to drive at a moderate speed.

"Mmm."

Chloe curled up close to the door and rested her forehead against the window, letting her eyes slowly close. She felt him lean in close, his arm touching her thigh as he reached for something. Something warm draped across her, soft fabric.

"Thanks." She sighed and fell asleep.

"No problem," she thought she heard him murmur.

oOo

_"Chloe."_ Mom was smiling down at her as they tug up holes for the tulips and bulbs, the sun burning her back and cheeks. The loose dirt was warm under her bare fingers and she wiggled them.

_"Chloe."_

A light breeze blew gently, blowing her damp curls away from her sun burnt neck. The wind chimes up on the porch swung like pendulums, whimsical music reaching Chloe's ears.

Mom laughed as she lost her balance and went sprawling across the grass, her long, glossy hair haloed around her. She looked beautiful, with her willowy frame and pretty blue eyes and smooth, clear skin. Her jeans had fallen low on her hips and bared her curved stomach, revealing a thick line running down from her belly button; a C-Section scar disappearing into the waistband of her jeans.

_"Chloe." _

Chloe's eyes popped open to find Derek's grass green eyes staring down her, the bridge of his nose dusted with a hint of pink like a washed out blush that leaked out across the apples of his cheeks. "Sorry," she whispered, still gawking up at him.

She could smell him, that familiar scent of pine needles and perspiration and sandalwood. "Don't be," he muttered, his eyes flickering between hers and her mouth. Suddenly aware of that sticky drool on her cheek, she wiped her sleeve across it. Her face burned.

"Here," he murmured and pressed something cool and damp against her skin. "Do you always keep wet wipes in you car?" she asked, sitting up, taking the wipe from his fingers; her fingertips burned the minute they brushed his. His face came startlingly close and she felt his breath against her skin, hot and dampening it. Her heart hammered.

"Not really," he said with a shrug as a lock of long, black hair fell across his forehead. She reached up and brushed away the hair. He grabbed her wrist as her brain slowly registered all the things. The windows on in her house. Her aunt's silhouette. Derek's weight pressing down on her legs. The delicious heat radiating from his body.

And how much she wanted to kiss him—no, how much she wanted him to kiss her. "Derek," she whispered, her face burning like fire as he looked at her, _really _looked at her, one hundred percent of his intenseness focused on her.

"We should go before your aunt attacks me with scissors," he said, biting his lip. She nodded, her heart hammering as he opened the door and hopped out, offering his hand to her. She shivered as she climbed out, grabbing his hand. When she stumbled on the uneven pavement, he caught her and her face burned. "I…" he began quietly, holding her close. "I—" he stopped, like he was unsure of how to say what he was going to say and set her away a few inches from him.

They headed up the sidewalk leading to her house. The curtains fluttered as Aunt Lauren's face withdrew, trying to pretend she hadn't been watching like a hawk. Chloe's heart thumped as her stomach twisted.

"Do you…uh…want to hang out? I mean, your uncle…" He ran his fingers through his hair, looking away to stare down the dark street. Cars passed down the road running horizontally to her street. "I'd love to," she blurted, not bothering to smother the smile threatening to break her cheeks. "Why didn't you tell him I wasn't your boyfriend?" he asked suddenly. Her face warmed. "I didn't mind," she muttered.

"Chloe," he began softly, reaching for her but she stepped back and listened in horror as her elbow hit the doorbell. The door swung open. Aunt Lauren glared at them, dressed in jeans and the sweater she'd gotten for Christmas, her hair pulled up in a wild bun and her bunny slippers bobbing on her feet.

"I should go," Derek murmured, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was fighting a smile. "Next time, don't drool all over your cheek," he said and she burst into embarrassed laughter. "Good night…_girlfriend_," he whispered as he headed down the walkway and down the drive, gravel crunching. Chloe watched him as he opened the door and tucked himself inside his black pickup. When he saw her, he smirked and blew her a kiss.

"Oh my god!" she laughed despite her thundering heart as he buckled up, checked behind him and backed out slowly. It took her several minutes to realize she was wearing his sweatshirt.

"Mind telling me what you were doing with him until," Aunt Lauren glanced at her watch, "ten at night?" "Nothing that you'd understand," the blonde said, surprising herself. Her aunt's face reddened with anger as she brushed passed her. A little yelp escaped her mouth as her aunt grabbed her arm, bony fingers digging in hard. "I won't let him corrupt you," she hissed. She look demented, a woman on a mission, her eyes dark and glaring.

"Haven't you corrupted me enough, _Aunt _Lauren?" Chloe snapped, yanking her arm away. The door slammed shut and Aunt Lauren stood there in the faint glow of the street light, shadows etched across her tired face.

"Go the hell to your room," she growled. Chloe did as she was told, feelings her fingers shaking and her throat constrict as Aunt Lauren's harsh glare followed her up the stairs.

When she got to her room, she kicked off her sneakers and grabbed her phone. She didn't realize she'd begun crying until she saw the drops on her screen, marring Derek's contact name.

_Pick me up at two, please. I can't be in the same house as her. _

**I'll be there at eleven. **

She clicked off her phone, shut off the light, and fell asleep in Derek's sweatshirt, her eyes stinging with tears and her arm aching from her aunt's grip.


	15. Chapter 15

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 15

China Buffet Crush

As much as he hated to admit, Chloe Saunders had grown on him. She was easy to dismiss but something about her caught Derek's attention. Maybe it was the hair, maybe it was her smile, but maybe it was the skipping of his heart when he caught sight of all of her. The strawberry blonde curls, streaked red, the smooth, creamy skin with freckles, the whites of her teeth as she laughed, her big, expressive blue eyes that gave away every emotion.

He stared at her house with a twinge of fear and apprehension. Last night had been amazing, having her beside him and then right there, staring up at him with hopeful eyes. _Get a grip, _he told himself fiercely. He caught a glimpse of movement and there she was, jogging out of the house. She stole his breath every time he saw her.

She was dressed in worn blue jeans that hugged her small hips and her long legs, and a sweater he recognized as his, hair flying everywhere. Her necklace bounced against her breasts as hopped down the steps and hurried over to the truck. When she opened the door, all he could smell was her fresh, strawberry shampoo. "Hi." She was smiling but her eyes looked slightly red, like maybe she'd been crying.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. My aunt…got pissed."

"Did she hurt you?"

He carefully back out of the driveway and patiently waited for her to buckle up before he continued.

"Well, she grabbed me."

He clenched the steering wheel. "Did she now?" "But only because I was rude to her," she quickly clarified. "I walked right passed her."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. No biggie."

"If she ever _does _hurt you, don't hesitate to tell me, okay?" He put a hand on her knee and turned his head as they stalled at a red light. Her face slowly turned red. "Y-yeah." She looked down at her hands and seemed to noticed the tons of CDs on the floor. "Can I look through them?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

She scooped up a handful and began sifting through them. "Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, Nirvana, Iron Maiden, Puddle of Mud…uh, Taylor Swift?" She waved the 1989 cd at him. His cheeks burned. "It's not that bad," he muttered. She put a hand on his knee and shook her head, grinning. She was stunning.

oOo

The ride was quiet. "We still need to do that project," he said, to fill the silence. When he glanced over at her, he saw her head bobbing. "How about later tonight? You said Saturday, last Friday, and it's Thursday today."

Something bitter seeped into his mouth as he thought of last Saturday. _How was I supposed to tell her I couldn't come because my dad decided to drag me to a shrink? _He shook his head to clear the thoughts and caught her watching him from under her lashes. "So where is it your uncle wants to meet?" he questioned, switching lanes with a flick of his indicator. "Oh, um, Carson's China Buffet," she squeaked softly as she tugged at the drawstrings of her hoodie—_his _hoodie, he realized.

"You still have that?" he said.

"What?" Her wide, sky blue eyes stared at him in surprise and then she quickly turned them down to her lap, a blush crawling across her face. _Huh. _"My sweatshirt." The blush darkened. "I-I'm so—" she began, twisting her fingers in a way that looked painful but he simply shrugged. "Keep it. I don't mind."

"What if people think we're—" she stammered in a pitchy voice.

"Dating? Does the idea really bother you that much?" He turned to look at her. "No. I-I thought i-it would bother y-you more," she whispered. "It doesn't," he answered, nudging the dial for the volume up with his thumb. "I mean, you're a pretty girl. I'm kind of flattered," he told her softly. Her face looked like a strawberry.

"I don't mind."

He offered a tiny quirk of his mouth and she smiled back shyly.

oOo

"Why haven't I ever been here before?" Ben grumbled as he flopped down at the table with a plated piled high with all sorts of meat. Derek shrugged as he slurped up his noodles. "It's better than that crappy place that everyone goes to," Chloe said quietly at his side, tearing a piece off her chicken and chewing slowly. He watched her lick the sauce off her fingers for a minute before quickly returning to his food, before she noticed the hungry look on his face.

His cheeks warmed when a thought popped into his brain, without his permission. The mini fantasy was him getting caught watching her, her big blue eyes sparkling up at him as he angled his head down, gently licking the sauce on her cheek away, hearing her breath hitch beautifully. He'd pull back and gently kiss her sticky lips. She'd melt in his arms.

"So how long have you two been together?" Ben asked, sliding the beef off the skewer and onto his plate. "Oh, u-um," Chloe murmured, wide-eyed now. "Since school started," Derek cut in, setting his now empty plate at the end of the table as he rose. "I'm going for seconds," he muttered, pushing in his chair.

It was as he scooped up some fish onto his plate that he realized Chloe was trailing behind him, timidly. "Why'd you tell him that?" she whispered beside him as she spooned sticky rice onto her plate. Under the yellow lights, her hair looked golden and it brought out the flush extending down her collarbone.

"You didn't correct him last night," Derek answered, wrinkling his nose at the crawfish before heading to the meat section. Chloe scurried quickly beside him. "I was going to b-but," she was saying as he picked up some chicken and beef. "I'm not going to bite your head off, Chloe," he muttered. "I like you," he continued, feeling his heart thumping in his chest, "so I don't mind."

"Y-You li-like me?" she squeaked.

"Romantically, yeah. There's just something—" He stopped himself quickly and felt his face warm. "Anyway, we should get going before your uncle sends out the search party," he suggested and headed for the table.

When they sat down, Chloe had the biggest smile on her face, her cheeks glowing with a blush. He couldn't deny she was beautiful.


	16. Chapter 16

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 16

Wonders of Class Projects

Chloe's fingers hovered above the keyboard as she tried to think. It was distracting to have Derek in her house, sitting there beside her, his leg touching hers and his musky Axe filling her lungs. She peeked over at him from under her lashes and saw him watching her too.

Her face flamed as she quickly looked away, trying to pretend ot be caught up in writing. "I can't think of anything," he said abruptly, leaning back with his arm across the back of the couch. _I like you so I don't mind_. His words bounced around in her brain and she felt her heart pounding, heat rising up from her belly. He liked her. She bit her lip hard.

"Is it…like i-it's on the tip of your mind but you can't…can't think of it?" When his molten green eyes met hers, she lost all thought. The light that came in from the window cast long, fragile shadows across his angular face and Chloe felt the urge to pick up her oil pastels and sketch his face, sketch the flush on his cheeks and the scar on his lip, capture the way each individual hair on his lashes were illuminated and the way his hair gleamed grey.

He nodded.

"Chloe?" His voice was soft, like feathers and her heart pounded louder, blood rushing in her ears. He was so close, too close, and her mouth was dry at their proximity. She saw every hair on his eyebrows and the little freckles under his left eye. His face was close to hers, angled down slightly, staring. For a minute, he didn't say anything else and everything was silent. There were no birds, there were no cars or the front door opening; her breathing was silent and she couldn't hear the blood rushing in her ears.

She blinked. His lashes touched hers. His hand came up and touched the back of her head, holding her in place as he shyly brushed his lips against hers. Her stomach dipped. He pulled back a fraction of an inch, his eyes opening slowly and meeting hers. "Is this…okay?" His voice was hoarse and raspy.

She licked her lips and nodded. The front door opened and they quickly pulled apart. Where Derek look unaffected, Chloe was certain she was beet red by the time Aunt Lauren came in, still dressed in her scrubs.

"How was work?" Chloe asked because that's what good nieces did, not kiss dangerous boys with long eyelashes and rough hands. Her mouth tingled as Aunt Lauren squinted at them, a frown set in a line across her tired face. "Lost a patient," she muttered as she kicked off her sneakers and headed upstairs without another word.

Her bedroom door slammed shut.

Chloe counted down in her head until the pipes squeaked, rattling. The sobs were quiet but still noticeable. "She cries after losing patients," she said quietly, staring down at her hands. She didn't remember typing anything.

_My vision cleared as I stared down at the girl, her body lifeless and long hair spilling around her fragile face. My hands shook as I tasted the sweet echoes of her mind's chi; her skin was translucent and her eyelids weakly fluttered. Alive, I told myself firmly as I crouched down and picked her up. Her collarbone could be bowls and hold rainwater. She was light, far lighter than she should've been, and she was all skin and bones. _

She stared at the screen. "When did I…" she said softly, her voice weak. When she looked up at Derek, he shrugged and turned back to his laptop. Trying to squash her disappointment at the moment being broken, the blonde turned back to her laptop and let her fingers work over the keys.

oOo

"What are you writing?" His moist, warm breath tickled her ear and she jumped, startled. Her brain was scrambled from his Axe. His shoulder pressed into her bicep.

"W-what?" she squeaked, turning her head. His eyes met hers and she was overwhelmed with his presence, so decisively Derek. Her face warmed as she quickly turned away, reading the words on the screen.

_"Psychic?" the girl echoed, her voice thick with sarcasm as her black eyes met mine. "Vampire," I finished shortly, ignoring the skepticism on her face as I pulled my coat around me tightly. "I feed off energy, chi, whatever you idiots call it," I spat, already hating how much I'd given away. _

_Nepal and Bethany stood side by side, his hair like a beacon and her black tresses muted against her all-black attire. Studying the map was Seth, his blonde hair and gold skin a sharp contrast against the harsh grey rocks of the shoreline. "You have an animal whisperer, an electromagnetic boy, a chi healer, and a fortune teller," I continued, feeling my legs weaken slightly so I leaned against the van before pushing on. "So why is it so hard to believe in a psychic vampire?" _

_My lip curled back over my teeth as I said this. "Maybe because you haven't given us _anything _to convince us that you aren't one of Them," Seth said, butting into the conversation as he came back, his face flushed from the cold wind. _

_Angel's big, black eyes never left mine. "And he hasn't given us anything to _not _believe him," she countered calmly, her voice soft. "I agree with you, An." Bethany spoke up in her clear, sharp voice. _

_"We're heading to the north," Nepal explained as he unlocked the van and climbed into the middle row of seats. I waited patiently until all of them took their seats to crawl inside and take my place in the back, laying down on the bed of sleeping bags and candy wrappers. The door slammed and rocked the van with it's force. "How north?" Beth's voice was drifting away as I closed my eyes. _

_"Canada."_

_Great. Canada. Seth started the van and I let images of him being killed off in numerous ways dance around in my brain while the roar of the engine drowned out everyone's conversation. _

_Maybe I could drown him at Niagara Falls. _

"Wow, that's good," Derek breathed. "T-thanks," Chloe murmured, blushing at the compliment. "I'm gonna go." He stood and quietly cleaned up his mess. Once he had everything in his bag, he turned to her and said, "Tomorrow good to continue?"

Her heart pounded.

"Yes."

He nodded to himself and waved goodnight to her before she saw him to his car. "Bye, Chloe," he told her as he backed out of the driveway.

Chloe watched his car until the lights disappeared and the only sound she could hear was the neighbor's dog barking.


	17. Chapter 17

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 17

_Chloe's hands shook __as she opened the front door to reveal Derek. He looked handsome in his dark sweatshirt and tight jeans, carrying a black laptop bag and…muffins? "Figured you might want to eat considering it's—" He paused and glanced at his watch. "—eight in the morning." _

_He stepped inside without another word and pushed the plastic tubaware into her chest. She wondered why he was acting different. "Anyway, you can eat and I'll set up my computer. What's the password?" He seemed to be flying on autopilot, his face set in stone as he kicked off his boots, set them aside and flopped down on the couch. "Well?" His bag was open and laying beside his hip; a sleek glossy laptop propped up on the coffee table. "I understand you're blonde but you should at least know how to speak." _

_Her face flamed with anger. "There's no need to be a jerk," she spat out, digging her fingers into the container's hard plastic and crumpling it. His green eyes glared up at her. "Are you done with your whining, Blondie?" The breath knocked back from her lungs and she glared right back. _

_"If you're going to act like a complete asshole, then get out," she told him sharply. A smirk rose. "I was just testing you," he said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world and his eyes gleamed, staring up at her. "You're a prick," she cried, her face burning viciously as her crush rolled his eyes. _

_"Don't be so—" he began, rising to his feet languidly. "Get the hell out before I beat you myself!" she yelled, throwing the box of muffins at him and it smacked him in the chest, the lid popping open. Muffins hit the floor. For an eternity, he just stared at the muffins and she tried to calm down. In the blink of an eye, he was in front of her, crushing her face between his hands and his hot mouth was on hers. He smelled like sandalwood and axe, his hard body pressing her back, back until her knees hit the edge of the couch, until her butt hit the cushions and his knee was edged between her thighs. His eyes burned into her. "Chloe," he whispered. _

"Chloe, the boy's here!" Her aunt's voice broke her dream and she bolted awake; blindly, she groped for a hair elastic and tied up her hair. Realizing she was in her pajamas still, she pulled on some tights and Derek's hoodie quickly.

Once she thought she looked presentable (or at least decent), she headed downstairs. Derek stood by the stairs, holding a carton of…muffins. She stood on the stairs, her heart pounding as she noticed the muffins. _Am I still dreaming? _She pinched her side and winced as she rubbed the tender spot. _No. _Blushing, she continued down the rest of the steps.

His eyes kept straying to her chest when he looked at her. "You're wearing my sweatshirt," he said after a minute of staring, the corner of his mouth quirking. "O-oh. W-well, I was asleep and I-I just grabbed—" He shook his head. "You look cute in it," he told her with a shrug, heading towards the TV room. She gaped after him. Her crush thought she looked cute?

_I swear, I'm still in a dream, _she thought fiercely as she trailed after him, hands pressed against her burning cheeks in hopes of cooling them. When she reached the couch, he looked back at her and asked, "When do you want to start?"

oOo

"Does this look okay?" Derek was leaning too close to her. Chloe nodded absently. "Chloe," he said while hiding a smile, "this is a shaved cat." Blinking, she realized he was right and smiled sheepishly. "If…" he began, uncomfortably almost, "if what I said at the buffet is what's eating you…" His voice broke and his face started to turn red. "It's not!" she blurted and, when she realized she had jerked her body and gotten in his face, she leaned away. Something flashed in his eyes and then they hardened, growing a bit colder. "It's not—" she tried but he cut her off.

"Let's just write," he said softly, in a cold, detached voice. She stared at him as he turned back to the screen, reaching for it. How could he be so hot and cold with her, making her think he was warming up to her, maybe even liked her back, and then he'd draw back, cold and rude as before, treating her like nothing more than a bug on his shoe?

Her face warmed in rage but she bite her cheek until she tasted blood and turned away. Unbidden, tears blurred her vision. _I don't understand you, you jackass, _she thought as she pressed her trembling fingers against the keys and began to write.

oOo

_"Let me help you," she whispered as I hung my head, blinking away the hot tears filling them. "Let me help you," she repeated in that soft voice of hers, her black eyes catching the light; they looked like wet spiderwebs. "No," I choked out, pulling out her grasp. My sneakers slipped on the slick rocks and I pitched back. She screamed. I laughed as I landed on my butt, the fall jarring me. _

_"Don't scare me—"_

_"As if you'd care," I spat and hurt flared in her cool eyes. Her jaw jumped as she leaned in close, a wave of minty breath hitting me. _

_"You're right." I blinked and saw Seth stepping closer, his eyes glowing in the dimness, over Angel's shoulder. My heart was pounding. "We _don't._" All that optimism in his eyes and his voice had died; he sounded bitter and full of rage, his chest heaving as he stood there, trembling. _

_"You're a spy."_

_It clicked in my head as Nepal and Bethany trotted out behind him, carrying my backpack and clutching documents; the rain soaked us. Nepal's blue eyes were cold; Bethany's burned like a fire. "A spy?" My voice caught in my throat and I coughed. "A _spy_? For who?" Nepal's eyebrows drew together. "Mrs. Sinter." _

_"Sinter? You're kidding, right?" A sardonic smile rose but, when none of them said anything, a dark feeling unfurled in my stomach. "You think I'm a spy?" I said, angry now, my voice cracking with my rage. "Why? Is it because I'm bad?" _

_"Yes."_

_Nepal's shining eyes glared down at me. "Because you've killed. Because you're a monster." _Monster. _The word wrung out, echoed by their inner voices as they forgot I could hear them. "Monster, huh?" I was building my walls faster than ever, blocking them out, blocking out my own emotions. _

_"Fine. I'm a spy. What of it?" My voice was steady now, cold. I ignored the pain in my back where the stones had dug into my skin and torn it. "You leave." Seth threw my backpack at my feet and mud splashed up, soaking my legs. Angel was wild-eyed, frantic. "Come on, Derek wouldn't—" she was saying. "Shut your mouth, witch." A sneer rose on my mouth. "You don't know anything. You don't _know _me. They're right. I've killed people and _enjoyed _it." I was smiling, that cold, predator smile that made everyone back up. Even Angel. _

_Her sad, dark eyes watched me as I ripped the papers out of Bethany's hand and elbowed my way passed them. "Next time we see each other, I won't hesitate to kill all of you." _

Chloe's hands were shaking with anger at his hot and cold attitude. When she looked up, Derek was gone. Somehow, she had the feeling he was angry with her, with her words and her attitude towards him. _Serves him right, _she thought, trying to calm herself down.

But, as much as she tried not to let it bother her, her stomach was still coiled tight by the time she flopped onto her bed. Her phone sat cold and abandoned and never went off.


	18. Chapter 18

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 18

Apology Girl

It was obvious that she'd pissed him off. Chloe stared at her phone, sadly, from the minute she woke up. She knew she'd pissed him off but didn't think he'd drop all contact. _What were you _thinking_? _She demanded of herself as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. _I wasn't, _she admitted and then shook her head to clear the thoughts.

"Chloe?" It was Lauren, gently rapping on the door. Quickly, the blonde scrambled out of bed and proceeded to peel off her shirt, pretending that she hadn't spent the entire night staring at the blank cellphone, expecting it light up with a text, too scared to call him and beg him to meet with her, so she could blubber through a bitter apology. The door creaked open. "Someone's—oh. You'd better wait downstairs. She's changing."

"Who is it?" Chloe asked, despite her exhaustion and slipped an oversized sweater over her head. Curls stuck up everywhere and she piled them into a bun atop her skull; wisps escaped and curled around her face, framing it. The door closing was the only answer she was given and she peeled off her shorts, swapping them with some tights. Once she deemed herself presentable, albeit exhausted and half-awake looking, she headed downstairs.

There was a dark-haired stranger on the couch, head bowed. His shoulders were too narrow for Ramon or Derek. Dark locks that graced his skulls was all curly, wavy. "Oh, thank god," Austin said in a rush as his head turned her way. Her stomach uncoiled. "Austin, I'm so sorry about not keeping in touch since Friendly's. I just…I've had so much going on," she whispered, more so to the floor than to the wide-eyed boy. "It's okay. I was just…I wanted to ask you something. I noticed you hang around, uh, Peter…" he began, softly, looking at her with those bambi eyes, " and I was wondering if you could introduce me to him."

"O-of course," she managed to squeak. All her hope of word of Derek evaporated and so did her hopeful mood. "Are you okay? You look like you had a rough night," Austin said quietly, stepping closer and Chloe squeezed her hands into fists, forcing a smile onto her face. His eyes never left hers. "Is it Derek?" When she sputtered for an answer, a knowing expression formed on his face. "I see. You're in love with him." Her mouth dropped open.

"No, I _not_," she argued in an unreasonably squeaky voice. Clearing her throat, she started again. "Listen, while I…I _do _like him…it's not love," she concluded weakly as Austin shook his head. "No, it is. It's like…like you can't breathe when he's around you and he makes your heart skip a beat. Just even hearing his _name _sends you panicking, trying to fix your hair or clothes. _Maybe he'll notice me, _you think." His smile was wide and unwavering.

"Sounds like you're describing _your_ crush," she muttered dryly as her eyes burned. "I fucked up, Austin, and I don't know if I can fix it." His solemn eyes met hers. "Tell me." He leaned against the couch, his face set in a calm expression, not a hint of judgment in his voice. And so she did, for the first time in a long time.

oOo

She felt stupid. So very stupid. Here she was standing on his doorstep, in an oversized, chunky sweater and a bruise on her knee from where she ran into a table earlier, holding a bouquet of flowers. Her stomach was turning in coils, her hands trembling as she raised her fingers to hit the doorbell.

What was she _doing_? A sharp pang of anxiety smashed into her and she whimpered, leaning against the cool bricks. She realized that she was about to apologize like a giant idiot from a movie; what she _didn't _realize was that she hit the doorbell. Minutes crawled by. Head ducked down, she stared at the clear plastic. The bouquet was making her nose itch and she was in the act of sneezing as the door opened. "Chloe?" Confusion laced his rumbling voice.

"Yeah."

She could feel her face heating up at the sight of his tousled hair and narrowed eyes; his clothes were obviously rumpled and she was distracted by his form-fitting shirt. In all honestly, wearing those baggy sweatshirts did nothing for his athletic form; in fact, they hid it so well that she was wondering if he was stocky underneath. Her cheeks were no doubt resembling a patch of strawberries. When he cocked a big, black eyebrow at the roses, she cleared her throat.

"I…I'm sorry. I realized I'd upset you and I'm—" Shit, her throat was closing up. She pressed her nails into her palm. "I'm sorry. I _completely _understand i-if you…y-you want a new p-partner," she blathered uselessly while he stood there, leaning against the doorframe.

"Is this what you woke me up at twelve for?"

It was short, calm, and it absolutely broke her heart. "Y-yeah," she croaked and pressed the flowers into his chest. "But I guess it doesn't matter." Her lip was trembling as she turned and headed back the way she came, praying he would follow her.

When she looked over her shoulder, he was gone. _De ja vu, _she thought dimly as she let the tears fall.

oOo

Ben wanted to take her out later Saturday. She declined, rattling off an excuse of a headache, and buried herself in her blankets. Her pillow was cool and damp from her tears and a wad of used tissues overflowed her trashcan. She'd followed Peter's stupid advice and all she got was a slap to the face and a bruised ego. _I hate him, _she told herself fiercely but burst into tears again as she thought of their shy kiss Friday.

"Chloe?"

She barely moved and refused to do so when her bedroom door creaked open. "Chloe, what's wrong?" In response, she pressed her face harder into the pillow and curled up, digging her nails into her palms. Dozens of bruised crescents decorated her hands. Shallow scratches layered the backs. "Sweetie—" The bed dipped. Lauren's familiar perfume stank.

"Go away," Chloe muttered, ignoring her aunt. "No. Not until you tell me why Derek Souza is in my house." She bolted up at the state and, sure enough, fidgeting in her doorway was Derek fucking Souza, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in her bloodshot eyes and wild, misery hair, the tissues overflowing her trashcan, blankets wrapped tight around her.

"Hi," he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers. She did the only thing she could think of. Her hand rose in the air, as though to brush her hair out of her face, and her face twisted as more tears filled her eyes. _He's mocking me, _she thought.

"Get out," she pleaded. "Not until you listen to me," he countered in a low, surly voice. Even if she didn't want to, she'd listen. Lauren glanced between the two of them, obviously irritated. "Keep the door open, Souza," she spat at him as she lifted herself up off the bed and shuffled out.

"Now," he said, turning to Chloe, "where were we this morning?"


	19. Chapter 19

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 19

Make Up Sex—Without the Sex

For a very long time, Chloe couldn't figure out how to get oxygen into her lungs. Derek was watching her with those stupid, pretty eyes of his and head bowed slightly. Downstairs, Lauren was banging on pots and pans, making a racket, letting them know she was just a few flights of steps below them. "Leave," Chloe breathed out in a rush of air, tasting the sour word on her tongue.

Derek's eyes hardened. "No," he replied, as easily as answering an easy question, and stepped closer. Her head was spinning. She knew she looked like shit, bloodshot eyes and ruffled hair, puffy cheeks and all and right now she _really _didn't need to hear his bullshit excuses and not-really-meaning-them apologies. She kicked away the heavy blankets. Empty tissue boxes scattered, hitting the carpet mutely. "Why? So you can mock me _again_ for apologizing to you?" she hissed, feeling her stomach twist as her mind replayed his response, that careless look on his sleepy face, the _I don't give a fuck _look in his eyes. He shook his head. "Chloe, I'm…" In the span of a pause, he sighed quietly and scratched at the back of his neck, rocking on his heels. "You're an ass," she said.

"I know." A wave of anger peaked.

"And you hate me, I _know_. You think I'm just some stupid, flighty blonde." Her hands were shaking in their tiny fists.

"I—" Panic flashed across his face, making his eyes round as he froze mid-sentence, mouth opening and closing. "No." His words were hushed now, his voice teeny. "No, _never. _I could _never _hate you, Chloe," he continued, softly. "Honestly, I'm surprised you've put up with my shit for so long," he muttered, dropping his hand from his neck. She shook her head. "I know I'm not the easiest guy to get along with," he added, "and it doesn't help that I'm a complete asshole whenever you're around." He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair and sending the pieces everywhere.

"Listen, Chloe, I…I'm not the best at words, as you know. I don't say the right things. When I'm around you, I-I—" He looked helpless, his eyes cast down. "I lose myself. I don't know how to act or what to say. When You answered the door, I thought, well, I thought the flowers were for Simon."

"He's gay." Her face burned.

"Tori, then." He let out a puff. "And I'd just gotten up, hadn't had my coffee yet." She shook her head, letting a tiny smile worm its way across her mouth. "So I was more than a bit cranky. I couldn't sleep last night after being such a prick to you earlier, when we were working on the project." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Chloe. I'm sorry for hurting your feelings."

"I accept your apology," she said slowly and it was like all the tension slid out of him, his shoulders relaxing and the breath rushed out of his mouth. "I'm sorry for whatever I did."

"I understand that you're repulsed by me."

Her stomach twisted sharply, painfully. "No," she choked out, scrambling closer to him. When she grabbed his face to twist his head down to her, she felt everything give way. "You aren't repulsing in the least bit. You have the most amazing, sexy eyes ever and they're constantly in my head, staring at me with an intense heat that makes me quiver. I love your hair, so silky and inky, it's like something out of a romance novel. I think your face is chiseled and gorgeous, like some sort of rugged bad boy." She paused, face warming as she realized he was gaping at her. "I-I…So no, I _don't _think you're repulsive." She flapped her hands and then finally laid them against her legs, digging her nails into the fabric of her sweats.

Abruptly, he stepped close, his knees hitting hers. He was close enough that she could smell his axe deodorant, his breath fanning across her face. Her heart pounded. His eyes filled her vision, fathomlessly green and endless, framed by long, pitch-black lashes, set deep in his skull. "You don't?" he whispered in an awed voice, so raspy and throaty that it sent excited shivers down her spine. "No, I don't," she murmured in response. He sighed. "Okay." When he moved back, she felt a bit of disappointment weld up inside her, her hope wilting like a dying flower.

"Come on." He held his hand out to her. "What?" she asked, hesitating before taking his grasp and he gave her a look, eyebrows raised. "I want to show you something," he said. She glanced down at her oversized sweatshirt and wrinkled sweats and shook her head. "I dunno," she whispered. He gave her something akin to a pout. "Let me make it up to you," he suggested, his voice taking a soft tone. Sighing, she settled back onto the bed and ran her hand across the rumpled bedspread. "Give me a minute to throw on some jeans," she muttered.

His eyes twinkled a tiny bit. "Cool." He slammed the door on the way out and she stared at the white wood blankly. How on Earth did she get herself into these situations?

oOo

When she came downstairs, Derek was sitting at the island, pointedly ignoring Lauren's loud, nasally chatter as he swirled his finger in circles on the granite countertop. On the last step, she tripped and stumbled noisily. His head whipped up and his eyes narrowed, watching her intensely. Cheeks burning, she muttered, "shit," under her breath and a little corner of his mouth quirked up. Lauren's face was pinched, tight with disapproval and her eyes were squinted. Her Judging Look. Chloe knew she was a bad, bad niece, seeing the boy her aunt explicitly warned her to stay away from, especially after she made such a big deal about him being her partner in English class, but right now, right now, she didn't care.

Right now, she was taking Derek's warm, sweaty hand and letting him lead her outside, without a single glance backwards at her close to Temper Tantrum Mode aunt. Right now, things weren't revolving around Lauren's need to dominate and control Chloe's every move.

And right now, Chloe was with Derek and she didn't give a flying fuck about what her aunt thought.


	20. Chapter 20

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 20

A Touch of Vanilla

She wasn't sure where they were going but she didn't care. All she wanted to do was to be away from her crazy aunt and right now, being next to him was sending her into a delicious catatonic crush-induced state. "Are you okay?" His rumbling voice broke the silence and she started, craning her head to gape at him.

"Y-yeah," she squeaked and hated how her voice broke. More silence. She fiddled with anything she could reach, the fabric of her jeans, her curls, her necklace. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, sniffling slightly. He must've been looking somewhere other than the road—maybe her?—because the car behind them lay on the horn and he hit the gas, lurching the truck forward. "You have _nothing _to be sorry about, Chloe." When he shifted gears, his knee hit her thigh and it sent chills up her spine.

"I dragged you into all th-this mess," she whispered, pulling her legs up into the seat to hug them and press her knees into her eye sockets. Hot tears filled and fell down her cheeks. "Chloe, I'm being serious. Everything's fine."

"My aunt is pissed beyond belief, Derek! She hates you." She couldn't have stopped crying if she tried. Thick, hot sobs built in her chest, in her throat. "Chloe…" His voice trailed and his hand rested on her head, stroking the hair. He didn't say anything else, just kept one hand in her hair as he drove.

For some reason, she preferred this quiet bliss.

oOo

He took them to a tiny, run-down park, for little kids with a chipped slide, broken swings, and a dingy sandbox. She could hear loud, angry barking and panicked slightly, but Derek rolled his eyes and kept moving forward, his hand in hers. His palms were sweaty and his fingers were thick, calluses rubbing against hers. She smiled softly, elated at his hand in hers as he led them into the brush. "This is a place I found a while back," he explained, like it was obvious but she could hear the muffled pride in his voice. "I tinker a little."

"Like an inventor?" Chloe asked, struggling to keep up with his huge stride. As she jogged—more or less—he continued. "I guess." He stopped abruptly and she nearly ran into him, stumbling back. He dropped her hand and she wanted to take his again but she stuffed her hands in her pockets. He pushed back the vines and headed inside, holding a hand up for her to wait.

She could hear muttering and banging and blinked curiously, leaning close. Somehow, the park seemed creepy and broody without Derek by her side, shadows creeping across the ground. The swings creaked slowly and eerily. Chloe's heart thumped in her chest as she rubbed her arms, ignoring the goose-bumps. Chains rattled noisily, clacking together with metallic sounds, and she jumped when something cold touched her back. "Baby," said a woman's voice.

She spun around and blinked, staring at the empty air. Nothing was there, no woman, no man, no one. The park was still empty and eerie. As she sucked down lungfuls of air, she noticed a familiar smell. Vanilla extract, just like Mom. A soft breeze pushed back her curls as she squinted up into the cloudy sky, sun blocked out. The funny thing was that nothing else swayed, not the swings, not the trees, no sand swirling up from the sandbox, and, even funnier, the wind only caressed one side of her face.

She should've been freaked out or should've ignored it but she leaned into that familiar swirl of vanilla. A memory rose. Mom leaning over her when she was sick, curls tickling her face, smiling at something funny she'd said. A wet washcloth had touched her forehead, rubbing something onto her chest to help the congestion, smelly and icky.

A hand touched her back, burning through her t-shirt, and she wheeled around, ready to scream for Derek or at lest throw a few punches but relaxed when she saw him, a bit red-faced. "What? Why are you crying?"

She touched her cheeks and stared at her wet fingertips. "I don't know," she answered, wiping her hand on her leg as he led the way, pausing slightly in pace when he realized her legs weren't as long as his. "I want to show you my, well, I guess you can it my sanctuary." She watched the slope of his broad back, huge shoulders spanning out and filling the width of his shirt, as he walked ahead of her.

"Derek?"

Why was she doing this? Every nerve in her body with common sense was screaming at her, telling her it was a very, _very _bad idea, but she stomped it down into the soles of her ratty sneakers. He stopped mid-step, turning his head to look at her. For a minute, she was speechless.

He was all angles, sharp cheekbones and a strong nose, squared off jaw and full, lush lips. His hair was tangled and sticking up in awkward ways, brown in the gold light of the setting sun; his eyes looked more brown, like a honey color, too. Beads of sweat clung to the hair follicles on his face and dampened his shirt around the neck and armpits, darkening his hair at the temples.

"What?" He was looking at her now, facing her and she gave him a smile. "Thank you." If she were braver, she would've given him a kiss, making him turn red; if she were sweeter, she would've given him a hug. All Chloe could manage was a smile, still trembling from being reminded of her mother.

"Are you—"

"I'm fine, Derek." He squinted at her with those eyes of his, seeing right through her, and he looked like he was going to say more, maybe berate her, maybe try to push her to tell him what was wrong but quickly decided against it. She wanted him to look her in the eyes and say, "I know you aren't fine." After a long, painful pause, she said, "Show me."

He looked kind of like an excited puppy, although he tried with all his might to hide it, but the twinkle in his eyes was still there. He turned on his heel and practically skipped down the path, pretending to be irritated at her speed but she could see his glowing cheeks.

"Okay."


	21. Chapter 21

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 21

Burn by Burn

His paradise was piled high with trinkets, broken coils and rusty utensils bent awkwardly, pieces hanging off the branches on little strings, and clinking in the breeze. Despite the cold sweat running down her back from the encounter previous, she felt suddenly warm, hot even. "Did you make all this?" she asked, a smile spreading across her mouth as she brushed her fingers lightly across a teetering, mixed pile of spare car parts—an engine peeking out, far too rusted to be used, a cracked headlight, and a shattered windshield—and nuts and bolts and wires. "Yeah," Derek said, his cheeks turning pink when he saw her wide-eyed expression. "Oh my God! This is…is…_amazing_!" she told him, racing ahead slightly, matted leaves crunching under her weather-eaten sneakers. "Not really," he muttered in response, shuffling behind her. "It _is! _Look at _this!_" She shoved a little metalwork piece into his face after swiping it off the nearest tower. It looked like the loping figure of a deer and it gleamed coppery in her hands, glinting off the light.

"I—"

"No. This is _beautiful._" She stroked the dented, twisted surface before setting it down. With a huge gust of wind, one of the towers toppled, clanking and shivering at the pieces rushed to the grass in a mad dash to get to the ground first. She jumped, startled, and scrabbled out of the way, bumping into Derek along the way. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her, steadying her. All the breath that had been in her lungs rushed out in a short yelp, and his chin touched the top of her head. "You okay?" His voice rumbled through his chest, vibrating her ribcage and making her heart tap-dance spastically. "Y-yeah," she squeaked, unable to help the fluctuating of her voice as she spoke, her heart thumping. He was too close, far too close, his breath warm and moist against her ear, his pulse drumming in his fingertips and rolling where he gripped the tops of her arms.

"I'm fine," she mumbled, but he didn't shift away; instead, he pressed even closer, flush with her spine. "You're the only one I've shown this to," he murmured, running his fingers through her curls, pulling it away from her neck slowly. A nameless panic squeezed her chest, like a pair of icy clamps, and she stumbled away, practically throwing her weight away from him. Within the span of a nanosecond, his happy aura shifted and the sparkle in his eyes died out like a failing star. When he spoke, his voice was noticeably cooler, and clipped even. "We should get going," he said, calmly, his face guarded and green eyes pinched around the corners. "Wouldn't want to keep everyone worrying." The words were a double-edged sword; one half whispered, _I don't want you around _and the other screamed, _I can't stand you. _

She felt too shaky right then to have said anything other than "mmhm". He didn't take her hand and he kept a respectable tree trunk space between them as they picked their way back to the truck. There wasn't any vanilla perfume and the breeze was cold, cutting through her clothes and making her shiver; the sky even seemed to grow dark on her, nearly black, heavy with a foreboding rain. When they climbed back into the truck, he didn't turn on the radio and just as he started the engine, the sky turned completely black. Thunder boomed and torrents of rain matched Chloe's sour mood.

Not once did Derek look at her.

oOo

Chloe was right. Lauren was pissed—no, _beyond _pissed. The minute Derek's front wheels touched the edge of the driveway, Lauren was coming out the front door—with two police officers. She had this pinched, pale look on her face, highlighting th grey in her hair, and her mouth set in a grim light, lips tucked in, nonexistent. Beside her, Derek sat up razor-straight, his knuckles clenching the steering wheel with paper-white skin, a tendon in his neck bulging out like a spurting wound. Rain fell in thick sheets, blocking out most visibility but Chloe could see the vivid anger on her aunt's face. "I'm sorry," Derek said, frown tugging the corners of his mouth down as he shut off the engine.

The sound of rain against the roof, pounding the sides, filled the silence as she struggled to breathe. Her hands shook violently as the two blue-uniformed officers made their way down the walkway, black raincoats gleaming with raindrops. "Don't say anything," he told her, arranging his irritated expression into a cool mask as one of the officers, a pretty African American woman, tapped on the window. When Chloe jumped, Derek slid a hand on her leg and squeezed, telling her _you need to relax _with no real words. The other cop, a white guy, gestured for them to roll down the windows and Derek pointed to the house. The cops exchanged a look and turned back to the house. She couldn't figure out what Lauren said but she stepped back into the house.

Chloe took a deep, deep breath and clicked open the seatbelt buckle. Once free, she snaked out of Derek's grasp and opened the door. Icy wind slapped her in the face, cutting through her clothes, ice-cold tendrils of rain soaking her hair to her face in seconds. A few minutes later, Derek was beside her, burning hot despite the cold rain and cold wind, griping her elbow and steering her towards the door. Every time her got caught on uneven pavement, it was only him keeping her from kissing the concrete. Despite the blinding rain gushing down on them, he seemed to have no problem navigating the way up slippery, wet steps and into the house.

The shock of the heated house made Chloe's teeth chatter. Waiting a little ways in to the foyer was Lauren, holding a pile of towels and handed them each one. "Now, what's going on?" Derek asked in a low voice. Lauren answered, venom seeping through her tone, as she said, "You kidnapped my niece. I had no choice but to call the police."

Despite the heating, Chloe felt cold all over again.


	22. Chapter 22

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 22

Something Wickedly Sweet

The house smelled like a pastry shop threw up inside, sticky and sweet and painfully sharp. Chloe's head spun and she coughed when she tried to breathe, the taste made her mouth fill bitterly. "What did your aunt _do_?" Derek muttered in her ear as he squeezed passed her, the front half of his shoulder pressed against her back, all hard muscle and hot skin, heat seeping through the wet fabric of sweatshirt despite the rain's chill. He had the towel Lauren handed each of them wrapped around his neck, hair still dripping rain down his neck, wetting the collar of his sweatshirt.

"It smells awful in here." Behind her hand, Chloe barely swallowed a laugh back at his mocking comment and turned back to her aunt, who leading the slightly damp officers into the television room, complete with bay windows and a little ledge plush with pillows and blankets. Lauren disappeared into the kitchen, her scrubs swishing the entire way, and told the cops to make themselves comfortable. After they toed off their cold, wet sneakers, Chloe and Derek made their way into the television room and she decided to light the fire, crouching down to strike a match and tuck it against the logs. Once the fire was blazing, the room was still wet, but far hotter, like a summer storm.

"F-for the record, I w-wasn't k-kidnapped," she stammered. "At all." She decided a little smile wouldn't hurt anything else, so that's what she did, although it was shaky and her hair was frizzy as can be, sticking to her face in clumps, and she probably looked frightened. It was hard not to be, considering how much the police here hated Derek and his parentage. "Why did your aunt think you were?" the white officer asked, skepticism all over his face as he slid out of his wet raincoat. With his arms stretched out along the back of the couch, legs crossed at the knees, he was the picture of ease. His partner, on the other hand, was wound tighter than coil, her shoulders all the way up to her ears, face pale with worry and a tiny bit of sadness. "She doesn't like Derek," Chloe explained, attempting to weave her fingers through her clumped hair.

"Why doesn't she like him?" The guy cop twirled his pen around in his circles, casually, like he dealt with crazy aunts accusing their daughter's friends-with-romantic-feelings of kidnap on a daily basis. "She thinks he's a 'bad influence,'" she said, shrugging. "He's rude, selfish, inappropriate, and uncivilized," Lauren spat as she came out of the kitchen, carrying a tray full of their special guest mugs. Her hair was now down, fanning around her face in short, choppy waves, and it made her eyes look harsher but her face softer. "He's not," Chloe argued, sneaking a pinch to her thigh when Lauren glared.

"Yeah, he's rude sometimes but what's the point in sparing feelings when telling the truth? As for the other things, he's completely selfless, driving me home after I found out about Ben and even staying with me to find my bag; he's never once hit on me—" She remembered the almost-kiss in the car so long ago but pushed it away. "—and he's not like that guy you like to talk to, what's his name? Mr. Travis, the one who doesn't know how to say 'excuse me' and 'pardon me' when he belches loud enough to quiet an entire busy Chili's." Chloe crossed her arms to emphasize her point but one hand snuck down and did a quick release-my-anxiety pinch to her leg. By now, she had a red mark.

The black cop finally relaxed, her face open and kind. When she blinked, her eyelashes fluttered bronze. "It seems like there's a lot of prejudiced against you, erm?" By her equal parts questioning and sheepish look, she didn't know Derek's name. "Derek," he supplied shortly. "Thank you. Maybe it's just Dr. Fellows being prejudiced against you," she suggested kindly, crossing her arms over her chest. Her breasts touched her tucked-down chin. "No," Lauren said, setting down the tray harder than need be, making the ceramic containers click. "What makes you say that?"

"Because he's a menace."

There's a long, dry silence, clamping down on Chloe's ears, making it hard for her to think of something, anything really, to say to make those horrible words go away. "A menace?" The white cop cocks a bushy eyebrow at Derek, who was squished into a thread-barren armchair opposite of the couch, right next to the fireplace, dwarfing it with his massive size. "It would seem so," Derek sneered, and the venom in his voice was like corrosive acid to Chloe's ears. A flash of lightening illuminated the cold rain outside, leaves fluttering to the ground with torrents of rain. The furnace belched and kicked on.

The female cop frowned, leaning forward. "A very dangerous, perverted, psychologically unsound menace," Lauren hissed fiercely, anger twisting her once-pretty features into something ugly. "He is deranged and wild and a threat to everyone's safety," she raged and the mugs clattered as she scowled. Pieces of unruly hair fell into her face and she looked deranged, face twisted in a way that looked painful. Chloe cringed away, tucking a hand under her leg to keep her itching fingers from pinching a bruise on her thigh. Somehow, staring into her aunt's wild expression, she felt an inkling of fear roll through her, bright and cold like midwinter rain. It was almost unbearable, seeing the wide eyes and flushed-red skin, the manic sneer on her mouth.

Derek's chair creaked as he leaned back, towel drying his hair. The fire popped and hissed. The furnace rattled. "Dr. Fellows, please, calm—" The black cop began soothingly, her expression oozing serenity but Lauren shrilly began to rant and rave. "I will _not _calm down when that–that _delinquent _is sitting with my daughter. He is a menace. Have you _seen _his record? He's like a walking time bomb! Ready to–to go off at any minute. He's sitting here, acting all innocent and calm like he _hasn't _been groping my daughter the entire time they were gone—no, the entire time she was held hostage! How dare you imply he isn't a menace?" She was practically foaming at the mouth, her voice shrill enough o shatter glass and could probably be heard over the roar of the storm outside.

"Ma'am—" The guy officer said.

"No. He probably didn't grope her; for all I know, he raped her." Lauren's chest heaved with her heavy panting.

"He didn't do anything of that nature," Chloe said, breath puffing out in short, ragged gasps from her mouth, where she'd bitten all the skin off and it was bleeding now. Her fingers had indents where the cushion seam had dug into the skin. "You keep saying 'daughter' when we–we both know I'm not. Maybe, _Aunt—" _Extra emphasis on the Aunt part "—Lauren, you're the one who's a ticking time bomb. Look at how upset you are. I had my phone on me; you could've called. Instead, you ran to the police to tattle on me because I did something you didn't like. Derek has been nothing but sweet and kind. _He _didn't leave me in a hospital parking lot after I found out I have an uncle; _you _didn't. _He _stayed with me and drove me home when it got dark; _you _didn't. He's been there for me more than you have. You bury yourself elbow-deep in patient files and blood and guts and leave me alone. It's _always _been like that."

She took a shaky breath.

"He's never once tried anything, tried to hurt me, which I can't say the same for you." When Lauren's wide eyes met Chloe's, the strawberry blonde lifted her chin higher and pointed to the urn sitting on the mantle above the fire. Shadows danced across the floor, creating eerie silhouettes.

"_That's _my mother, not you. Not matter how hard you try."


	23. Chapter 23

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 23

The Sad History of Lauren Fellows

While Lauren sputtered for a dignified response, Chloe turned to the officers and said, in a whisper, "She died when I was ten. Hit by a drunk driver. Died on impact." She didn't add how it was her fault, how if she hadn't forgotten her clarinet at school, her mother would be standing there with them, encouraging her every step. She looked away from the flower-patterned urn and took a deep breath to calm down, feeling her hands quivering. All that adrenaline she had been running on when she ranted at her aunt had vanished, leaving her trembling and weak, close to tears. Derek's hand touched her shoulder blade, and the heat seeped in through her damp shirt; having him so close to her calmed her down and she could breathe freely. "I'm sorry for your loss," the black woman said, her face full of sadness, and she twisted the wedding ring on her finger, looking a little green under the dark brown of her skin. Chloe shrugged, like it wasn't anything big. "It's alright. Five years…" _and the hurt still doesn't go away, _she added silently.

"You act like you're the _only_ one who lost Jennifer," Lauren spat, finally having thought of a comeback, her voice full of soft anger and velvety sadness. A darkness dimmed her blue eyes, more grey than blue now, and it made her face paler, drawn tight in controlled rage and grief. "I lost my sister, my parents, and my grandparents all in the same week. I had to plan five funerals, cry over their bodies over and over. How do you think _I _feel?" she hissed, her voice rising in volume, and she struggled to keep it down. "For years, I grew up with her leading the way, casting me in shadow, but nevertheless I loved her. She was my best friend, and I watched her grow up and fall in love and get married. I was there when you were born. She said you were the best thing to happen to her." A sob broke her voice. "And just like that, she was gone. I get a call after a long shift. It's _your _father, crying on the phone, hysterical, babbling about how he 'can't believe it' and 'this is a nightmare' and he asks me, 'how am I supposed to raise this little girl by myself?' I don't get what he's jabbering me about, so I ask him. He tells me Jen's dead. My big sister. Sweet, funny, lovable. I wouldn't see her smile ever again, I wouldn't braid her hair, I wouldn't hear her laugh."

Lauren let out a short bark of laughter, but it was mirthless.

"That's why I'm here. I'm trying my best to help Steve raise you, trying to fill the hole that Jennifer left behind. I'm in deep over my head because _my _daughter, my beautiful baby girl, is dead and gone. She would've been in college by now, maybe married with a nice boy or girl, but she drowned. I'm just going along blindly, trying to keep you here with me while I can, before I blink and you're gone too. I just…" Lauren sighed angrily and twisted her fingers out of her hair, where they'd been wrapped around so tight it created a knot. "I don't want to lose you like I lost her, Jen, my parents. I don't want to wake up and get a phone call when the sun's just rising and hear that damn voice say, 'I'm sorry to inform you but…'and have to cry over one more body, gone too young." Tears streaked down Lauren's face as her resolve crumpled and she hugged herself gingerly, as though she weren't quite sure what to do with herself now she'd gotten all of her hurt out in the open.

"Why are you so bent against me?" Derek asked from the nook at the window, his face smooth, carefully so. She lifted her head and smiled sadly. "My daughter was just the same as Chloe. Innocent. She fell in love with a boy, and he killed her. Took her to some rapids, dared her to do some stupid stunts with him in the water, but she hit her head on the way down and he waited as long as he could. I never saw her until I was at the morgue, and the doctor told me it was negligent homicide, but the charges didn't stick to the son of a bitch at all." She shook her head slowly. "I never knew, and I never asked, and love killed her. I'm not letting you hurt her."

"I wouldn't _dream _of it." Derek was standing across from Lauren now, his face fierce and his expression vivid. "I'm sorry that I called you out here," she whispered to the cops, who were beginning to inch towards the door. The guy scowled at her but the woman smiled and patted her hand like they were old buddies. "I understand," the black cop said gently, "I'm a mom to two twins." Lauren shuddered with mock horror and the woman laughed. Derek shifted, his stance relaxing as he ghosted over to the armchair and sank down.

While Chloe saw the cops out, Lauren slumped against the empty recliner and began to cry. "I never wanted her to know. I didn't want her to think of me as weak." Heavy sobs shook her bony shoulders as tears wet the fabric of her scrubs, dripped down her face. "I thought I was doing the right thing, keeping you from her. I suppose not." She shook her head at herself, laughing dryly, at herself no doubt. "I didn't want her hurt like my little Marigold. I don't want to have to identify her body in the morgue and not give her justice."

"Love is scary," Chloe said as she stepped into the room, her hair wet and a mixture of rain beads and perspiration shining on her skin, "but that's what makes it amazing." They were all quiet. "Besides," she added with a grin, "I'm pretty sure Ben would beat the tar out of him if he hurt me."

Lauren's laugh was nasally.

"I'm sure he would. Will you forgive me, Derek Souza?" She stared straight at him and Chloe was proud how her aunt's prominent chin didn't quiver. Derek shrugged. "I guess."


	24. Chapter 24

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 24

The Trouble with Mr. Travis

Throughout the week, Chloe kept seeing a book, big and leather-bound with a cracked spine from too much use, being passed around. When she mentioned it to Tori offhandedly, the dark-haired girl's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. After that, the strawberry blonde backed off, but kept an eye open.

During lunch on Thursday, sitting by herself since Kari and Beth were absent today, she found her paranoia growing by the passing seconds. Glancing around from behind a curtain of hair, she found no one watching her with malevolent looks on their faces, and tried to shrug off her anxiety. _Probably nothing to be worried about, _she told herself firmly as she peeled back the aluminum foil on her wrap.

"Chloe?"

She jerked in surprise and banged her knees on the underside of the table; scowling, she turned and looked up into Mr. Travis's face, his upturned mouth and his high, arched eyebrows. He was a bit too close, so she scooted back, her spine bumping the edge of the table. The grin he flashed down at her was half friendly, half hungry, and she desperately wished that Derek or Tori—hell, anybody—was there with her.

A bead of perspiration ran down his jaw, and she watched it fall down his skin instead of watching his face; for some inexplicable reason, she couldn't look at his face without feeling sick to her stomach.

"I want to have a word with you," he said and brushed off imaginary lint off his jeans. Despite the dress code, he got away with wearing old band tees and jeans every day, and that was one of the reasons that half the female population as in love with him; in their eyes, he was a regular guy, with a great sense of humor and he was just like them.

"About what, sir?" Chloe asked uncertainly as she glanced around.

Mr. Travis only smiled and held out his hand; preferring not to touch him, she slowly packed up her lunch and stood, keeping a careful distance between them, and maintaining a stiff stance. Hopefully, he'd get the hint that he was being too friendly, too creepy, and back off, but, much to her surprise, as they walked out towards the main hall that ran all the way to the back of the school, he placed a hand on her shoulder, his fingers biting in a bit too much.

"Sir, what's this about?" she tried again, craning her neck to peer up at him. Students brushed passed them, but none of them seemed to care that an adult had one of his students by the shoulder and was currently leading said student—who was only fifteen—towards his empty classroom. "Mr. Travis, I don't think—" she squeaked in protest, gripping her bag painfully with both hands as she saw the open door and lack of witnesses.

"Chloe, there you are. Christ, do you know how hard it is to find you?" a voice grumbled from behind them, and Mr. Travis dropped his hand immediately, as though he'd touched scalding water.

Chloe wheeled around and saw Derek's hulking form, a tiny smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. Relief, cold as ice, rushed through her and she stumble towards him, hot tears prickling the inside of her eyes. His hair was damp and had been raked away from his eyes; his t-shirt, still hanging off him like a sail, had a wet ring along the back of it. There was a flush on his cheeks, and he seemed to be a bit breathless. When she got to his side, she wrapped her shaking fingers around the fabric of his shirt, and he tensed immediately; without pausing in wrapping a protective arm around her, he focused his attention on her.

"You okay?" he murmured.

Her teeth were chattering too badly for her to respond.

He lifted his head and bared his teeth; in a low, angry voice, he hissed, "What did you do to her?"

Mr. Travis smiled, donning a friendly persona, and held up his hands, signaling he was harmless. That seemed to piss the green-eyed boy even more, who tightened his grip, crushing her to his side practically. Practically growling in his rage, Derek nudged Chloe backwards step by step until they reached the main hall. She wondered, offhandedly, if he didn't trust Mr. Travis to turn his back on him.

Once they hit the main hall, a huge stream of the student body from Chloe's lunch period, he dropped his arm and placed his hand—twice the size of hers—on her elbow, covering the span of it, the tips of his fingers touching the crease of her arm. With his hand on her elbow, he herded her down the hall, opposite of the flow of students, and they ducked into an alcove. A gaggle of loud boys roughhoused by, completely ignorant of the shaking girl so close to tears a measly few inches away from them.

A sob built up inside of her throat and she stuffed her fist into her mouth, her shoulders shaking violently as she struggled to breathe properly. Through a blur of tears, she saw Derek leaning closer and felt his arms wrap around her, tugging her against his chest. Blinded by her growing panic attack, she couldn't even enjoy the hug from her crush because of that creep. Every breath rattled out in gasps, strained to ears; her face was hot, like fire, as she tried to keep quiet. The entire time, he stroked her hair gently, humming a song that she recognized.

A smile found its way onto her flushed face. "The Monkeys? Really? I always pegged you as a Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden kind of guy," she told him honestly, a slight laugh in her voice as the panic slowly ebbed from her system, replaced by a washed out emptiness.

He gave her a mocking annoyed look and held her still as he watched the kids pass by the dark alcove. "The Monkeys, yeah. Kit used to sing it to me when I was little. Scarred me for life." Silence, a furrow in his brow, and then, "What happened with Mr. Travis back there?"

"I feel like that was the tip of the disgusting, lecherous iceberg," she admitted, wiping her eyes and nose on her sleeve.


	25. Chapter 25

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 25

Chauffeur Advice

She pushed the incident with Mr. Travis to the back of her brain as sheets of rain pounded the roof after the last bell rang. Kids groaned restlessly as they gathered their books and pulled up their hoods to run to their cars and the bus ramp.

Chloe waited patiently underneath the overhang of the school out front for Milo, glancing behind her periodically to make sure Mr. Travis wasn't lurking in the shadows to finish what he'd started.

"I'm gonna catch a ride with Nate and Liz," Simon's familiar voice said and she turned to see Derek backing out of the front doors. He didn't seem to see her and grunted something that sounded like a response to his brother.

She looked away quickly and watched the rain seem to pour down even harder than before. Lightening crackled in the clouds and turned the grey purple and pink. "Ew," she muttered to herself, hating the cold wet of the rain, but still mesmerized by the electricity crackling overhead.

Derek walked passed her, backpack hanging off his shoulder by one strap, and he hunched his shoulders up to his ears as the rain soaked him within minutes.

"Hey! Derek!" she called, darting out from the overhang and grabbing his sleeve. "You don't have a ride, do you?"

He shot her an irritated look. "No," he drawled mockingly, "I just like walking in downpours."

A little bit stung and taken aback, she recoiled, cradling her hand against her chest. "No need to be an asshole about it. It was a simple question." Exasperatedly and uncharacteristically tired, she trudged back to the steps and sat down, wiping what she was rain and not tears out of her eyes.

"I'm…not mad at you, Chloe," he sighed, plopping down beside her while he wrung out his shirt, "I just can't get Mr. Travis out of my head."

"Brokeback Mountain?" she giggled.

"No," he snapped while his cheeks turned red as he looked around quickly and peeled off his shirt. He wore a tank top underneath.

Out of embarrassment, she averted her eyes while he slipped into a dry t-shirt and pulled on a hoodie.

"Sorry," he apologized, wiping his hair out of his face as he turned a darker shade of red than before. "I…he just creeped me out. The way he looked at you."

"Looked at me?" She twisted so her knees touched his.

He ducked his head and rubbed his wet t-shirt against his hair, soaking up the water. "Like he—" Abruptly, he broke off and threw his wet shirt down into the recesses of his backpack. "Like he wanted to hurt you," he spat.

Chloe couldn't think of anything to say after that and stared down at her wet sneakers, where her toes were cold in wet socks. A horn beeping pulled her out of her thoughts, and she lifted her head to see the family's black car waiting at the curbside.

"Come on," she said, struggling to pick up her backpack with cold fingers, and squeaked in surprise when the bag was lifted out of her hands. She stared incomprehensively at Derek's retreating back until Milo honked again, jerking her from her stare down.

She pushed herself up and jogged through the onslaught of rain. "Milo," she panted as she slid in after Derek, "this is my friend, Derek. I hope you don't mind that I offered him a ride."

"At least you didn't offer me candy to get me in the car," Derek muttered beside her.

She turned red as Milo chuckled.

"Where do you live?" he asked the boy, adjusting his hat out of his eyes while Chloe shut the door and buckled up.

"Two on five Richardson Avenue." He rested his forehead against the window and closed his eyes.

Absently, she wondered if he was sleeping, and just admired him, using his vulnerability—lack of awareness really—to her advantage.

He was broodingly handsome, with a crooked nose—no doubt broken some time before he moved here—that hung over a top lip that was too full and a thinner lower one; his cheekbones looked more at home on a model, his long lashes casting faint shadows across the apples of his cheeks; his pale eyelids were cast in deep, almost purple shadows. Pieces of long hair frame his face, some pieces longer than others, and she wondered if the hair ever effected his vision.

Like the pervert she was, she continued to ogle him.

Positioned under his lips, his chin was too sharp and jutted out like an artist's Neanderthal, which made him even more striking; the jaw was too soft for the rest of his face, more rounded than squared off; a thick, muscular neck drew her eyes to his broad, corded shoulders and a peek of protruding collarbone and Adam's Apple.

Spots of his t-shirt, light grey, were darker with the water that still beaded his cream skin and she could see how it clung in an absent, almost sensual way to his muscles; he was athletic, with long muscles that looked more at home on the nfl field, on a grown man. Thick, blue veins drew that attention to his forearms, decorated with thick dark hair; bone protruded on either sides of his wide wrists and tapered into massive hands, light scars catching the light.

She quickly peeked up at him, praying his eyes were still closed; a deity must've been listening because when she glanced at his face, his eyelids twitching, he was still unawares.

"Is this the boy Lauren doesn't like?" Milo asked quietly from the front seat, and Chloe jerked in surprise, her heart stuttering in its beating. How stupid she'd been! How could she have forgotten Milo was there? Her cheeks burned like coals.

"Yeah," Chloe whispered.

"Do you have feelings for him?" he continued.

She bit her lip hard enough to taste copper. "I think so," she admitted.

Milo was quiet for a very long. "I think you should follow your heart. Like one of those romance movies. That's what your mother believed in. Not what your brain decides or your parents. Your heart. Your mother…she was a good woman."

When they dropped Derek off, Chloe was lost in her thoughts and didn't even realize the car had been standing still for several minutes until Derek's voice cut through her train of thought.

"Bye, Chloe." He was walking away when she started.

"Derek! Wait!" She struggled to unbuckle and scrambled out of the car, ignoring the downpour. In the side-view mirror, she caught a glimpse of Milo's smile. "Wait," she pled.

"Yeah?" He cocked a brow at her.

"Willyougoonadatewithme?" she blurted before she could lose her nerve.

For a very long time, he didn't respond; he just stared at her, his eyes gazing at her as though she were a puzzle he was determined to solve. Rain continued to pour down unrelentingly, making her shiver.

"Okay," he said finally.

"Okay…? I mean, I—What? How? I mean—"

He gave her a half-smile, just a tilt of his mouth, that made her heart stutter. "I'll text you, okay? I'm new to the whole dating thing too."

"Dating? We're dating?" she squeaked.

He leveled his stare at her. "If you want. I'd, personally, like that. You should go before you get sick. Oh, and Chloe?"

She paused in walking back to the car.

"If you want to ogle me, all you have to do is ask."


	26. Chapter 26

The Misadventures of Chloe Saunders

Chapter 26

Project Date

Chloe didn't know how to even begin the topic of her first date with Lauren. She'd never really had any interest in dating but Derek made her want to try it at least once. Sure, he could be rude but there were worse guys to go on her first date with, like Liam or Royce, both cold, sadistic assholes.

"Aunt Lauren?" Chloe asked meekly, staring at her big-eyed reflection in the mirror. She didn't look like a girl who had her first date soon. "So there's this…guy and I asked him out and I-I…ugh!" Scowling to herself, she leaned against the mirror and sighed heavily. "Why can't I even _pretend_?" Giving up, she flopped back onto her bed and stuffed her face in the pillow to muffle her scream of frustration. On the nightstand, her phone buzzed and she didn't even look up to drag it closer.

It buzzed again.

**DearBear: What time should I pick you up? **

She stared at the screen until it clicked and hurried to unlock the message. _I'm not sure. I still haven't asked my aunt and, even though you're on decent terms now, I don't know how she'll react. _Her hands shook so badly as she typed that she had to rewrite the message several times before she sent it.

The garage squealed as it opened and she peered out the window to see her aunt's car pull into the driveway.

**DearBear: I could just drop by and we could work on the project. That's due Monday, right?**

She glanced at her desktop, jiggled the mouse, and stared at the date. Today was Wednesday, so they had four more days to work on it. _Yeah. I'm almost done with my half, just three more pages to go. What about you?_

The door to the garage that led inside slammed. "Chloe?" Lauren called like she always did as she dropped her keys in the ceramic bowl. Two thunks told Chloe that her aunt kicked off her shoes and she glanced at her phone. He was still typing.

"Yeah. Hi, Aunt Lauren," the blond girl said as she opened her bedroom door to greet Lauren.

A man stood behind Lauren, wearing a backwards baseball cap and holding a small dog in his arms. Lauren was wearing a big smile. "You remember your uncle, Ben, right? I ran into him on the way back from the hospital and he's joining us for dinner." The two glanced at each other.

"Derek's coming over to work on our project though," Chloe blurted without any second thoughts.

The smile on her aunt's face dropped the minute she said Derek's name.

"The project is due Monday, and I want to see how our pieces correspond with each other."

Back on the bed, her phone buzzed.

"I'd like to meet him. I'm sorry I left you at the hospital that night we met. I thought your aunt would take you home," Ben said, even though nobody asked for his opinion, and scratched at his beard.

Chloe turned and answered her phone.

**DearBear: More than I'd like. Is it okay to drop by in a few minutes? **

_Yeah, but my douche uncle is here. Consider yourself warned. _"He's dropping by in a few minutes."

Lauren let out an irritated noise. "Thank you for asking me, Chloe."

"It's a _project_, Aunt Lauren," Chloe said flatly, looking at her so-called uncle.

Ben was scratching his dog, a little daschund with white spots in the fur, completely oblivious to how weird things were. The dog, however, noticed Chloe's stare and whined, struggling to get out of his arms, and he set the little pup down, letting go of the leash.

"This is Amber. She's one," he informed the girl, like she asked.

The dog wobbled over to her and she couldn't resist dropping to Amber's level, letting the daschund climb all over her legs and lick her chin. She may not believe her owner about being related to her, but his dog was insanely cute and howled when Chloe howled.

"She's a rescue," Lauren said, beaming at Ben like a mom boasting about their kids.

It was as Amber climbed over her feet that Chloe realized Amber was missing a leg, her right back one. _Poor baby, _she thought and pulled the dog against her chest. Amber whined and licked at Chloe's face.

Downstairs, the doorbell rang and Lauren scowled.

"That's probably Derek," Chloe explained with a tiny smile as she headed down the hall and down the stairs.

Derek stood on the porch, wearing a dark t-shirt and a baseball cap that read _Genesis II. _He was carrying a black laptop bag, and was pressing his phone to ear when she opened the door and pressed a button before he tucked the phone back into his pocket. "I've got about five more pages and I'm kind of stuck," he said as she opened the door wider and let him in.

Ben was carrying Amber down the stairs as Derek stepped in. "Oh, hello," the man said and Amber squirmed again, catapulting out of Ben's arms.

Derek's hands shot up and caught her and she whined, licking his face eagerly, greeting him like he was an old friend. Her tail wagged wildly, like a plane propeller. "Who's this?" he asked, looking at Chloe.

She ducked her head. "Amber. She's Ben's dog. Oh, would you like to stay for dinner?" _Take that, Aunt Lauren, _she thought with a smile as Derek scratched behind Amber's ears and played with her paws.

"Sure," he agreed, looking up at Ben. "How old is she?" he asked, indicating to the dog chewing on the collar of his shirt.

"She's almost one," Ben said proudly.

Chloe felt a stab of guilt at being so rude to him; he didn't seem like a bad guy, but that didn't make up for the fact he continued to say he was her dead mom's brother.

"Let's get cracking," she announced like a dork and Derek's mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly as he followed her into the living room.


End file.
